I 


UC-NRLF 


B    3    332    EDS 


IN  STORY-LAND 


BY 

ELIZABETH   HARRISON, 

Principal  of  the  Chicago  Kindergarten  College. 


EIGHTEENTH  EDITION. 


PUBLISHED  BY 

CENTRAL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

258  Wabash  Avenue, 

Chicago,  111. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  1895,  by 

ELIZABETH  HARRISON, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


—  Btcktold  —  /.  Curwen  &•  Sons,  Ltd. 

Printing  <f  Book  lift.  Co.  Lond      England. 

St.  Louit,  Mo. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  not  expected  that  the  stories  in  tins 
book  will  be  told  in  their  present  form*  to. 
Kindergarten  children,  as  experience  has 
shown  that  each  Kindergartner  must  modify 
her  story  to  suit  the  needs  and  capacities  of 
her  children,  and  must  learn  to  take  from 
any  story  just  so  much  as  may  be  helpful  to 
her  in  creating  a  fresh  story  for  the  occasion. 
It  is  hoped,  however,  that  they  may  serve  the 
mother  in  her  home  reading  with  her  group 
of  children,  and  also  that  my  colaborers  in 
primary  and  second  grade  schools  may  some- 
times use  them  for  Friday  afternoon  read- 
ings. 

A  friendly  critic  has  suggested  that  I  add 
"One  story  a  day  is  enough  for  a  child." 
This  is  certainly  the  case  if  the  story  is  to 
make  any  deep  or  lasting  impression. 

E.  H. 


285589 


I  LOVINGLY  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK  TO 
MY  FRIEND, 

late  Siffant)  $u!jarb«ott, 

who,  from  childhood,  through  girlhood,  Jar  into 
womanhood,  illumined  my  life  with  a  radiant  love 
and  sympathy  that  made  every  ideal  seem  possible, 
and  with  whose  four  little  children  I  have  many  a 
time  journeyed  into  STORY-LAND. 

ELIZABETH  HARRISON. 
Chicago,  111. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT  .     .       9 

THE  LINE  OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT;   OR,  THE 

LITTLE  BLIND  SISTER 20 

PRINCE  HARWEDA  AND  THE  MAGIC  PRIS- 
ON   31 

THE   LITTLE  GRAY   GRANDMOTHER  ;   OR, 

THE  ENCHANTED  MIRROR  ....     47 

LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES  ;  OR,  THE  FAIRY'S 

BIRTHDAY  GIFT   .......     56 

THE  FAIR  WHITE  CITY;  OR,  A  STORY 
OF  THE  PAST,  PRESENT,  AND  FU- 
TURE   65 

THE  LOVING  CUP  WHICH  WAS  MADE  OF 

IRON 78 

HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS  .  .  86 

STORY  OF  THE  SMALL  GREEN  CATERPIL- 
LAR AND  THE  BEAUTIFUL  WHITE 

BUTTERFLY 96 

(vii) 


viii  CONTENTS. 

THE  DISCONTENTED  MILL  WINDOW  .  .  103 
THE  STRANGE  STORY  OF  A  WONDERFUL 

SEA-GOD 113 

THE  VISION  OF  DANTE 124 

STORIES   OF  HEROES. 

FA  OB 

How  LITTLE  CEDRIC  BECAME  A  KNIGHT  143 
STORY  OF  CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS  FOR 

LITTLE  CHILDREN 161 

A  STORY  OF  DECORATION  DAY  FOR  THE 

LITTLE  CHILDREN  OF  TO-DAY  .  .178 
OLD  JOHNNY  APPLESEED  187 


LITTLE   BETA    AND     THE    LAME 
GIANT. 

Near  the  top  of  a  high,  high  mountain  there 
lived  a  great  giant.  He  was  a  very  wonderful 
giant  indeed.  From  the  door  of  his  rocky  cave 
he  could  look  into  the  distance  and  see  for  miles 
and  miles  over  the  surrounding  country,  even 
to  the  point  where  the  land  touched  the  great 
ocean,  yet  so  clearly  that  he  could  observe  the 
smile  or  the  frown  on  a  child's  face  three 
miles  away.  More  wonderful  still,  he  could 
look  through  the  darkest  cloud  which  ever 
covered  the  sky  and  see  the  sun  still  shining 
beyond  and  above  it.  And  then  his  hands  I 
Oh  how  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  his  hands  ! 
They  were  so  large  and  strong.  Such  wonder- 
ful hands,  too  !  With  them  he  could  lift  up  a 
rock  as  big  as  this  room  and  set  it  to  one  side. 
Sometimes  his  fingers  could  make  the  sweetest 
kind  of  music  come  from  a  crude  violin  which 
he  had  fashioned  for  himself. 

Then,  too,  ho  knew  so  much,  and  he  knew 
it  well.  I  don't  believe  that  ten  of  the 
wisest  men  that  our  universities  ever  sent  out 

(9) 


10  IN  STORY-LAND. 

could  have  told  you  such  extraordinary  things. 
He  knew  all  about  every  plant  which  grew  on 
the  mountain,  and  just  where  the  rich  mines 
of  gold  and  silver  were  hidden  inside  the 
mountain.  He  could  have  pointed  out  to  you 
which  pebbles  could  be  polished  into  emeralds 
and  topazes  and  sapphires  and  which  were 
worthless.  Had  you  asked  him  he  could  have 
taken  you  to  the  secret  spring  from  which 
flowed  the  sparkling  stream  of  healing  waters, 
sought  by  all  the  sick  folks  in  the  country 
round.  He  was  such  a  wonderful  giant  that  it 
would  take  me  the  whole  day  to  tell  you  of  all 
the  things  which  he  could  do  —  but  —  he  was 
lame  and  somehow  could  never  get  down  the 
mountain  to  where  the  ordinary  mortal  lived. 
So  for  ages  he  had  been  alone  upon  his  moun- 
tain top,  seeing  all  the  people  below  him, 
loving  them  with  all  his  heart,  and  knowing 
just  what  would  help  them,  yet  never  being 
able  to  come  near  to  them. 

In  one  of  the  valleys  of  the  great  mountain 
lived  a  little  maiden  called  Beta.  She  was  so 
small  that  most  people  thought  her  a  young 
child  and  so  weak  that  she  could  not  even 
carry  a  bucket  of  water  from  the  well  to  the 
house.  Then  too,  she  was  a  very  plain  look- 
ing little  girl,  not  at  all  pretty.  Her  mother 


LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT.        11 

used  to  say  to  her :.  *'  'My~dear  daughter,  you 
are  neither  rich,  nor  clever,  nor  beautiful, 
therefore  you  must  learn  to  be  useful  to 
others  if  you  would  be  loved." 

The  little  maiden  often  wondered  how  jshe 
was  to  be  of  any  use  to  the  people  about  her. 
She  would  say  to  herself,  "I  have  no  money 
to  give  to  them  ;  my  hands  are  not  skilled 
enough  to  do  much  work  for  them  and  my 
brain  is  not  quick,  therefore  I  can  not  give 
them  beautiful  thoughts  which  will  help  them." 
Still  she  was  a  loving-hearted  little  girl,  and 
love,  you  know,  always  finds  a  way  to  be 
helpful. 

One  day  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  could 
gather  some  wild  flowers  and  take  them  to 
the  old  woman  who  lived  all  alone  at  the  end 
of  the  village  and  who  was  so  deaf  that  no- 
body ever  tried  to  talk  to  her. 

With  this  thought  in  mind  she  started  out 
in  search  of  the  brightest  flowers  she  could 
find.  She  climbed  the  mountain  side  and 
gathered  a  whole  armful  of  beautiful  yellow 
golden-rod  and  purple  asters  and  red  Indian 
pinks.  These  she  carried  joyfully  to  the 
little  house  at  the  end  of  the  village.  They 
made  the  dingy  old  room  take  on  a  look  of 
warmth  and  happiness.  Gay  as  they  were, 


12  7^V  STORY-LAND. 

however,  the  face  of  the  old  deaf  woman  was 
brighter  still  as  she  said,  "Bless  you,  my 
child,  bless  you!  Who  but  little  Beta  would 
ever  have  thought  of  bringing  flowers  to  me." 

The  next  day  Beta  thought  she  would  take 
some  flowers  to  the  blind  weaver  who  made  all 
the  carpets  that  the  villagers  used.  "  This 
time,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  must  hunt  for 
the  flowers  which  have  a  sweet  odor,  as  he 
cannot  see  their  gay  colors."  So  she  gathered 
some  wild  roses  and  some  sweet  scented  violets 
and  some  witch  hazel.  As  she  entered  his 
small  shop  he  lifted  his  head  from  his  work 
and  said,  "  Ah  me,  what  is  this  I  smell?  It 
has  been  many  a  day  since  I  have  been  near 
enough  to  the  mountain's  own  flowers  to 
breathe  in  their  perfume."  Beta  placed  them 
in  a  mug  near  his  loom  and  as  she  ran  home 
she  was  very  happy,  yet  she  hardly  knew  why. 

After  this  she  went  daily  to  the  mountain  to 
gather  flowers  for  some  dear  soul  who  could 
not  go  out  to  get  them.  Sometimes  they  were 
taken  to  the  gentle  mother  who  had  so  many 
children  that  she  never  found  time  to  leave  her 
homo.  Sometimes  they  went  to  the  village 
church  and  made  the  Sunday  seem  more  beau- 
tiful than  other  days.  Each  time  she  climbed 
higher  and  higher  as  she  had  soon  learned  that 


LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT.       13 

the  rarer  and  more  beautiful  flowers  could  only 
be  found  far  up  the  mountain.  At  last  one 
day,  when  she  had  climbed  farther  than  she 
had  ever  ventured  before,  she  suddenly  came 
upon  the  lame  giant  sitting  on  a  large  stump 
in  front  of  his  cave.  In  his  hand  was  his 
violin,  but  he  was  not  playing ;  his  face  wore 
a  thoughtful,  almost  a  sad  look. 

Beta  was  so  frightened  that  the  flowers 
dropped  from  her  hands  and  she  nearly 
stopped  breathing.  She  had  never  before  in 
all  her  life,  seen  a  real,  live  giant.  He  was  so 
big  that  she  could  hardly  believe  her  own  eyes 
as  she  looked  at  him.  Her  first  impulse  was 
to  run  down  the  mountain  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, but  somehow,  the  very  sight  of  such  a 
wonderful  being  held  her  spell-bound,  so  she 
stood  motionless,  gazing  at  him  from  behind  a 
huge  rock. 

Soon  he  put  his  violin  in  position  under  his 
chin  and  taking  up  his  bow  began  to  play.  He 
played  so  softly  and  sweetly  that  little  Beta 
felt  sure  he  could  not  be  wicked  and  cruel  as 
were  the  giants  she  had  read  about.  Little  by 
little  she  came  shyly  toward  him.  As  soon  as 
he  saw  her  he  laid  down  his  violin  and  held 
out  his  hand,  smiling  as  he  did  so.  "  Come 
near  to  me,  child,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not  hurt 


14  /AT  STORY-LAND. 

you."     Beta  thus   encouraged,    came    slowly 
forward. 

"  Tell  me,  little  one/'  said  he  gently,  "  from 
whence  came  you,  and  how  did  you  find  your 
way  so  far  up  the  mountain  side  ?  None  but 
strong  mountain  guides  have  ever  before  come 
near  my  cave/'  "  I  was  gathering  flowers," 
answered  little  Beta,  "  and  I  thought  I  might 
find  some  blue  forget-me-nots  among  these 
rocks."  "  So  you  have  learned  already,  have 
you,  that  forget-me-nots  can  best  be  found 
near  the  mountain  tops."  With  that  he 
laughed  softly  to  himself.  His  laugh  was  such 
a  kindly  laugh  that  it  took  away  all  fear  and 
made  Beta  feel  quite  at  home  with  him. 
"  What  is  your  name?"  said  she,  "  and  why 
do  you  live  up  here?  Do  you  not  sometimes 
get  lonesome  ? ' '  The  great  giant  did  not 
answer  her,  but  began  talking  about  some- 
thing else.  In  a  short  time  he  had  led 
the  little  maiden  into  telling  him  all  about 
herself  and  the  people  of  the  village  and 
the  flower  gathering.  It  was  not  until  he 
rose  to  point  out  to  her  where  forget-me- 
nots  could  be  found  in  abundance,  that  she 
noticed  lie  was  lame.  She  had  soon  gather- 
ed a  whole  apron  full  of  the  beautiful 
flowers  and  bidding  him  good-bye  she 
climbed  down  the  mountain,  sometimes 


LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT.       15 

slipping  and  sliding,  but  always  holding  fast  to 
the  hem  of  her  apron  that  the  flowers  might 
not  be  lost. 

Many  times  after  that  she  climbed  the 
mountain  to  the  cave  of  the  giant  and  sat  on  a 
little  stone  at  his  feet  while  he  told  her  stories 
of  things  which  had  happened  in  the  village 
long  before  any  of  the  people  who  lived  in  it 
were  born.  She  loved  best  to  listen  to  the 
tales  of  gods  and  heroes  of  the  olden  times. 
Then  when  she  was  tired  of  stories  he  would 
show  her  where  the  flowers  grew  most  pro- 
fusely. Little  by  little  he  taught  her  to  know 
the  herbs  which  were  good  for  sick  people. 
Oftentimes  they  were  very  humble  looking 
plants  which  she  would  have  passed  by  un- 
noticed. She  soon  learned  how  to  brew  these 
into  drinks  and  medicines  for  the  feeble  and 
sick  folks  of  the  village.  Sometimes,  though 
not  often,  he  would  play  on  his  violin  for  her. 
He  always  played  such  strange,  weird  music 
that  it  made  her  think  of  Siegfried,  and  of 
Lohengrin  and  the  white  swan,  or  of  other 
beautiful  beings  whom  she  had  never  seen,  but 
of  whom  she  had  heard. 

Each  day  when  she  returned  to  her  home  she 
told  the  people  of  the  village  about  the  won- 
derful giant  who  lived  so  high  up  the  mountain 


16  Itf  STORY-LAND. 

that  its  top  could  be  seen  from  his  cave  door, 
but  they  only  laughed  and  said,  "  Little  Beta 
has  been  dreaming."  Even  after  they  had 
learned  to  cull  upon  her  for  herbs  with  which 
to  poultice  bruised  limbs  and  strengthen  weak 
stomachs  or  quiet  restless  fevers,  they  gave  no 
heed  to  what  she  said  about  the  giant. 

Years  passed  by  and  the  little  maiden  still 
continued  to  climb  the  mountain  to  learn  of 
the  lame  giant  more  and  more  of  what  was 
wonderful  and  beautiful  in  the  world  about 
her.  Much  climbing  in  the  open  air  had  made 
her  strong  and  well.  As  time  wore  on,  she 
unconsciously  made  a  path  up  the  mountain 
side,  which  of  course  caused  the  climbing  to  be 
much  easier  than  in  the  days  when  she  had 
to  scramble  over  the  rocks  and  push  aside  the 
underbrush  to  make  her  way  up.  The  path 
too,  was  firm  and  smooth  now,  with  no  stones 
suddenly  slipping  from  beneath  her  feet  and 
causing  painful  falls. 

At  last  one  day  Beta  persuaded  two  or  three 
of  her  companions  to  go  with  her  to  the  cave. 
Now  that  there  was  a  respectable  path,  the 
undertaking  did  not  seem  so  foolish  as  in  the 
days  when  Beta  had  gone  scrambling  up  the 
rocks,  nobody  knew  whither.  So  they  laugh- 
ingly consented  to  go,  more  to  please  Beta, 


LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT.       17 

whom  they  had  learned  to  love,  than  with  any 
expectation  of  seeing  a  real  giant  at  the  end  of 
the  journey.  Therefore  they  were  greatly 
astonished  when,  after  much  climbing,  a  sudden 
turn  in  the  road  brought  them  face  to  fnce 
with  a  being  five  times  as  large  as  an  ordinary 
man,  whose  strong  hands  looked  as  if  they 
might  easily  crush  any  one  of  them,  yet  whose 
kindly  face  re-assured  them. 

The  great  giant  received  them  pleasantly,  as 
they  were  little  Beta's  friends,  and  soon  they 
were  eagerly  plying  him  with  all  sorts  of 
questions.  "  Did  he  know  those  strange  crea- 
tures, the  centaurs,  whose  bodies  were  half 
man  and  half  horse?  They  had  heard  that 
these  centaurs  lived  somewhere  among  the 
mountains,  and  that  they  could  teach  any  boy 
how  to  become  a  great  hero.  Had  he  ever 
ridden  on  the  back  of  Pegasus,  the  flying 
horse,  whom  none  but  giants  could  ride 
without  tumbling  off?  Did  he  ever  drink 
from  the  fountain  of  youth  which  had  the 
power  to  keep  mortals  from  growing  old? 
Was  it  true  that  he  could  change  the  dirt 
beneath  their  feet  into  golden  money?  "  All 
these  and  many  other  questions  they  asked 
him  and  to  each  he  gave  an  answer. 

That  night,  when  they  returned  to  the  village, 

2  \ 


18  JN  STORY-LAND 

they  could  talk  of  nothing  else  but  the  wonder- 
ful giant  whose  home  was  near  the  mountain 
top.  Next  day  a  larger  number  of  the  villagers 
climbed  the  mountain  to  the  cave,  and  each 
succeeding  day  more  were  persuaded  to  make 
the  journey,  until  everybody  in  the  little  valley, 
that  is,  everybody  who  could  climb,  had  visited 
the  lame  giant.  Then  they  began  to  discuss 
how  they  could  open  a  road  up  the  mountain 
to  the  cave.  Finally  they  decided  to  unite 
together  and  build  a  broad,  winding  road,  one 
wide  enough  to  let  horses  and  vehicles  pass 
each  other.  "  Then,"  said  they,  "  we  can 
take  our  dear  old  grandsires  and  granddames 
and  even  our  little  children  up  to  the  good 
giant  that  he  may  teach  them  also." 

Soon  the  whole  village  was  humming  with 
the  sound  of  pickaxe  and  spade.  Everybody 
worked  and  everybody  was  eager  and  happy 
in  the  work.  It  took  a  long  time,  several 
years,  in  fact,  before  the  road  was  completed, 
but  it  was  done  at  last  and  it  proved  a  greater 
blessing  than  they  had  anticipated,  for  not 
only  could  they  now  drive  up  the  mountain  to 
the  lame  giant's  cave,  but  he  was  able  to  come 
down  to  them  I  This  was  a  thing  of  which  they 
had  never  dreamed,  and  great  was  the  rejoic- 
ing on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit  to  them. 


LITTLE  BETA  AND  THE  LAME  GIANT.       19 

Years  passed  by  and  the  little  valley  became 
the  most  famous  spot  on  the  whole  earth,  so 
rich  was  its  soil,  so  remarkable  the  products  it 
sent  out.  People  came  from  all  over  the  land 
now  to  visit  the  lame  giant  and  learn  of  him 
some  of  the  wonderful  secrets  which  had  been 
hidden  for  centuries,  and  all  loved  him  and 
revered  him. 

My  story  would  not  be  complete  if  I  did  not 
tell  you  that  he  too  became  less  lame,  since  the 
journeys  up  and  down  the  mountain  helped  to 
make  him  much  stronger. 

Perhaps  some  day  you  may  go  to  this  valley 
yourselves  and  learn  how  to  do  many  wonder- 
ful things,  which  now  seem  impossible  to  you. 


THE  LINE  OF   GOLDEN  LIGHT; 

OR, 

THE  LITTLE  BLIND  SISTER. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  liv^d  a  child  whose 
name  was  Avilla.  She  was  sweet  and  loving, 
and  fair  to  look  upon,  and  had  everything  in 
the  world  to  make  her  happy,  —  but  she  had 
a  little  blind  sister,  and  Avilla  could  not  be 
perfectly  happy  as  long  as  her  sister's  eyes 
were  closed  so  that  she  could  not  see  God's 
beautiful  world,  nor  enjoy  His  bright  sun- 
shine. Little  Avilla  kept  wondering  if  there 
was  not  something  that  she  could  do  which 
would  open  this  blind  sister's  eyes. 

At  last,  one  day,  she  heard  of  an  old,  old 
woman,  nobody  knew  how  old,  who  had  lived 
for  hundreds  of  years  in  a  dark  cave,  not  many 
miles  away.  This  queer,  old  woman  knew  a 
secret  enchantment,  by  means  of  which  the 
blind  could  receive  their  sight.  The  child, 
Avilla,  asked  her  parents'  permission  to  make 
a  journey  to  the  cave,  in  order  that  she  might 
try  to  persuade  the  old  woman  to  tell  her  this 
(20) 


THE  LINE  OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT.  21 

secret.  "  Then/'  exclaimed  she,  joyfully, 
"  my  dear  sister  need  sit  no  longer  in  dark- 
ness." Her  parents  gave  a  somewhat  unwill- 
.ing  consent,  as  they  heard  many  strange  and 
wicked  stories  about  the  old  woman.  At  last, 
however,  one  fine  spring  morning,  Avilla 
started  on  her  journey.  She  had  a  long 
distance  to  walk,  but  the  happy  thoughts  in 
her  heart  made  the  time  pass  quickly,  and  the 
soft,  cool  breeze  seemed  to  be  whispering  a 
song  to  her  all  the  way. 

When  she  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  it 
looked  so  dark  and  forbidding  that  she  almost 
feared  to  enter  it,  but  the  thought  of  her 
little  blind  sister  gave  her  courage,  and  she 
walked  in.  At  first  she  could  see  nothing, 
for  all  the  sunshine  was  shut  out  by  the  frown- 
ing rocks  that  guarded  the  entrance.  Soon, 
however,  she  discerned  the  old  woman  sitting 
on  a  stone  chair,  spinning  a  pile  of  flax  into 
a  fine,  fine  thread.  She  seemed  bent  nearly 
double  with  age,  and  her  face  wore  a  look  of 
worry  and  care,  which  made  her  appear  still 
older. 

The  child  Avilla  came  close  to  her  side,  and 
thought,  she  is  so  aged  that  she  must  be  hard 
of  hearing.  The  old  woman  did  not  turn  her 
head,  nor  stop  her  spinning.  Avilla  waited  a 


22  JJV  STOKY-LAND. 

moment,  and  then  took  fresh  courage,  and  said, 
"  I  have  come  to  ask  you  if  you  will  tell  me 
how  I  can  cure  my  blind  sister?"  The 
strange  creature  turned  and  stared  at  her  as  if. 
she  were  very  much  surprised  ;  she  then  spoke 
in  a  deep,  hollow  voice,  so  hollow  that  it 
sounded  as  if  she  had  not  spoken  for  a  very 
long  time.  "  Oh,"  said  she  with  a  sneer,  "  I 
can  tell  you  well  enough,  but  you'll  not  do  it. 
People  who  can  see,  trouble  themselves  very 
little  about  those  who  are  blind  I  "  This  last 
was  said  with  a  sigh,  and  then  she  scowled 
at  Avilla  until  the  child's  heart  began  to 
beat  very  fast.  But  the  thought  of  her  little 
blind  sister  made  her  brave  again,  and  she 
cried  out,  "  Oh  please  tell  me.  I  will  do  any- 
thing to  help  my  dear  sister  I"  The  old 
woman  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  her  this 
time.  She  then  stooped  down  and  searched 
in  the  heap  of  the  fine-spun  thread  which  lay 
at  her  side  until  she  found  the  end  of  it. 
This  she  held  out  to  the  child,  saying,  "  Take 
this  and  carry  it  all  around  the  world,  and 
when  you  have  done  that,  come  to  me  and  I 
will  show  you  how  your  blind  sister  may  be 
cured."  Little  Avilla  thanked  her  and  eagerly 
seized  the  tiny  thread,  and  wrapping  it  care- 
fully around  her  hand  that  she  might  not  lose 


THE  LINE   OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT.  23 

it,  turned  and  hastened  out  of  the  close,  damp 
cave. 

She  had  not  traveled  far  before  she  looked 
back  to  be  sure  the  thread  had  not  broken,  it 
was  so  thin.  Imagine  her  surprise  to  see  that 
instead  of  its  being  a  gray  thread  of  spun  flax, 
it  was  a  thread  of  golden  light,  that  glittered 
and  shone  in  the  sunlight,  as  if  it  were  made 
of  the  most  precious  stuff  on  earth.  She  felt 
sure  now  that  it  must  be  a  magic  thread, 
and  that  it  somehow  would  help  her  to  cure 
her  blind  sister.  So  she  hastened  on,  glad 
and  happy. 

Soon,  however,  she  approached  a  dark, 
dense  forest.  No  ray  of  sunlight  seemed  ever 
to  have  fallen  on  the  trunks  of  its  trees.  In  the 
distance  she  thought  she  could  hear  the  growl 
of  bears  and  the  roar  of  lions.  Her  heart  almost 
stopped  beating.  "  Oh,  I  can  never  go 
through  that  gloomy  forest,"  said  she  to  her- 
self, and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She 
turned  to  retrace  her  steps,  when  the  soft 
breeze  which  still  accompanied  her  whispered, 
"  Look  at  the  thread  you  have  been  carrying  I 
Look  at  the  golden  thread!'*  She  looked 
back,  and  the  bright,  tiny  line  of  light  seemed 
to  be  actually  smiling  at  her,  as  it  stretched 
across  the  soft  greensward,  far  into  the  dis- 


24  IN  STORY-LAND. 

tance,  and,  strange  to  say,  each  tiny  blade  of 
grass  which  it  had  touched,  had  blossomed 
into  a  flower.  So,  as  the  little  girl  looked 
back,  she  saw  a  flowery  path  with  a  glittering 
line  of  golden  light  running  through  it.  "  How 
beautiful !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  did  not  notice 
the  flowers  as  I  came  along,  but  the  enchanted 
thread  will  make  the  next  traveler  see  them." 
This  thought  filled  her  with  such  joy  that 
she  pushed  forward  into  the  dark  woods. 
Sometimes  she  knocked  her  head  against  a 
tree  which  stood  in  her  way;  sometimes  she 
almost  feared  she  was  lost,  but  every  now  and 
then  she  would  look  back  and  the  sight  of  the 
tiny  thread  of  golden  light  always  renewed  her 
courage.  Once  in  a  while  she  felt  quite  sure 
that  she  could  see  the  nose  of  some  wild  beast 
poking  out  in  front  of  her,  but  when  she  came 
nearer  it  proved  to  be  the  joint  in  a  tree  trunk, 
or  some  strange  fungus  which  had  grown  on  a 
low  branch.  Then  she  would  laugh  at  her 
own  fear  and  go  on.  One  of  the  wonderful 
things  about  the  mysterious  little  thread  which 
she  carried  in  her  hand  was,  that  it  seemed  to 
open  a  puth  behind  it,  so  that  one  could  easily 
follow  in  her  foot-steps  without  stumbling 
over  fallen  trees,  or  bumping  against  living 
ones.  Every  now  and  then  a  gray  squirrel 


THE  LINE   OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT.  25 

would  frisk  by  her  in  a  friendly  fashion,  as  if 
to  assure  her  that  she  was  not  alone,  even  in 
the  twilight  of  the  dark  woods.  By  and  by 
she  came  to  the  part  of  the  forest  where  the 
trees  were  less  dense,  and  soon  she  was  out  in 
the  glad  sunshine  again. 

But  now  a  new  difficulty  faced  her.  As  far 
as  she  could  see  stretched  a  low,  swampy  marsh 
of  wet  land.  The  mud  and  slime  did  not  look 
very  inviting,  but  the  thought  of  her  little 
blind  sister  came  to  her  again,  and  she  bravely 
plunged  into  the  mire.  The  dirty,  dripping 
mud  clung  to  her  dress  and  made  her  feet  so 
heavy  that  she  grew  weary  lifting  them  out  of 
it.  Sometimes  she  seemed  to  be  stuck  fast, 
and  it  was  only  with  a  great  effort  that  she 
could  pull  out,  first  one  foot,  and  then  the 
other.  A  lively  green  frog  hopped  along 
beside  her,  and  seemed  to  say,  in  his  funny, 
croaking  voice,  "Never  mind  the  mud,  you'll 
soon  be  through  it.'*  When  she  had  at  last 
reached  the  end  of  the  slippery,  sticky  marsh, 
and  stood  once  more  on  firm  ground,  she 
looked  back  at  the  tiny  thread  of  golden  light 
which  trailed  along  after  her.  What  do  you 
think  had  happened  ?  Wherever  the  mysteri- 
ous and  beautiful  thread  had  touched  the  mud, 
the  water  had  dried  up,  and  the  earth  had 


26  IN  STOBY-LAND. 

become  firm  and  hard ,  so  that  any  other  per- 
son who  might  wish  to  cross  the  swampy  place 
could  walk  on  firm  ground.  This  made  the 
child  Avilla  so  happy,  that  she  began  to  sing 
softly  to  herself. 

Soon,  however,  her  singing  ceased,  As  the 
day  advanced,  the  air  grew  hotter  and  hotter. 
The  trees  had  long  ago  disappeared,  and  now  the 
grass  became  parched  and  dry,  until  at  last  she 
found  herself  in  the  midst  of  a  dreary  desert. 
For  miles  and  miles  the  scorching  sand 
stretched  on  every  side.  She  could  not  even 
find  a  friendly  rock  in  whose  shadow  she 
might  rest  for  a  time.  The  blazing  sun  hurt 
her  eyes  and  made  her  head  ache,  and  the  hot 
sand  burned  her  feet.  Still  she  toiled  on, 
cheered  by  a  swarm  of  yellow  butterflies  that 
fluttered  just  ahead  of  her.  At  last  the  end 
of  the  desert  was  reached,  just  as  the  suu  dis- 
appeared behind  a  crimson  cloud.  Dusty  and 
weary,  the  child  Avilla  was  about  to  throw 
herself  down  on  the  ground  to  rest.  As  she 
did  so,  her  eyes  turned  to  look  once  more  at 
the  golden  thread  which  had  trailed  behind 
her  all  day  on  the  hot  sand.  Lo,  and  behold  ! 
What  did  she  see?  Tall  shade  trees  had 
sprung  up  along  the  path  she  had  traveled, 
and  each  tiny  grain  of  sand  that  the  wonder- 


THE  LINE   OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT.  27 

f  ul  thread  had  touched,  was  now  changed  into 
a  diamond,  or  ruby,  or  emerald,  or  some  other 
precious  stone.  On  one  side  the  pathway 
across  the  desert  shone  and  glittered,  while  on 
the  other  the  graceful  trees  cast  a  cool  and 
refreshing  shade. 

Little  Avilla  stood  amazed  as  she  looked  at 
the  beautiful  trees  and  the  sparkling  gems. 
All  feeling  of  weariness  was  gone.  The  air 
now  seemed  mild  and  refreshing,  and  she 
thought  that  she  could  hear  in  the  distance 
some  birds  singing  their  evening  songs.  One 
by  one  the  bright  stars  came  out  in  the  quiet 
sky  above  her  head,  as  if  to  keep  guard  while 
she  slept  through  the  night. 

The  next  morning  she  started  forward  on 
her  long  journey  round  the  world.  She  trav- 
eled quite  pleasantly  for  a  while,  thinking  of 
how  cool  and  shady  the  desert  path  would  now 
be  for  any  one  who  might  have  to  travel  it, 
and  of  the  precious  jewels  she  had  left  for 
some  one  else  to  gather  up.  She  could  not 
stop  for  them  herself,  she  was  too  anxious  to 
press  forward  and  finish  her  task,  in  order 
that  her  little  blind  sister  might  the  sooner 
see. 

After  a  time  she  came  to  some  rough  rocks 
tumbled  about  in  great  confusion,  as  if  angry 


28       .  IN  STOBY-LAND. 

giants  had  hurled  them  at  each  other.  Soon 
the  path  grew  steeper  and  steeper,  and  the 
rocks  sharper  and  sharper,  until  they  cut  her 
feet.  Before  her  she  could  see  nothing  but 
more  rocks  until  they  piled  themselves  into  a 
great  mountain,  which  frowned  down  upon 
her,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  How  dare  you 
attempt  to  climb  to  my  summit?  "  The  brave 
child  hesitated.  Just  then  two  strong  eagles 
with  outspread  wings  rose  from  their  nest  of 
sticks  on  the  side  of  a  steep  cliff  near  by,  and 
soared  majestically  and  slowly  aloft.  As  they 
passed  far  above  her  head  they  uttered  a  loud 
cry  which  seemed  to  say,  "  Be  brave  and 
strong  and  you  shall  meet  us  at  the  moun- 
tain-top." 

Sometimes  the  ragged  edges  of  the  rocks 
tore  her  dress,  and  sometimes  they  caught  the 
tiny  golden  thread,  and  tangled  it  so  that  she 
had  to  turn  back  and  loosen  it  from  their  hold. 
The  road  was  very  steep  and  she  was  com- 
pelled to  sit  down  every  few  minutes  and  get 
her  breath.  Still  she  climbed  on,  keeping  the 
soaring  eagles  always  in  sight.  As  she  neared 
the  top,  she  turned  and  looked  back  at  the 
enchanted  thread  of  golden  light  which  she 
had  carried  through  all  the  long,  strange 
journey.  Another  marvelous  thing  had  hap- 


THE  LINE   OF  GOLDEN  LIGHT. 


29 


pened!  The  rugged  path  of  sharp,  broken 
rocks,  had  changed  into  broad  and  beautiful 
white  marble  steps,  over  which  trailed  the 
shining  thread  of  light.  She  knew  that  she 
had  made  a  pathway  up  this  difficult  mountain 
and  her  heart  rejoiced. 

She  turned  again  to  proceed  on  her  journey, 
when,  only  a  short  distance  in  front  of  her, 
she  saw  the  dark  cave  in  which  lived  the 
strange  old  woman  who  had  bidden  her  carry 
the  line  of  light  around  the  world.  She 
hastened  forward,  and  on  entering  the  cave, 
she  saw  the  old  creature,  almost  bent  double, 
still  spinning  the  mysterious  thread.  Avilla 
ran  forward  and  cried  out,  "  I  have  done  all 
you  told  me  to  do,  now  give  sight  to  my 
sister?  "  The  old  woman  sprang  to  her  feet, 
seized  the  thread  of  golden  light  and  exclaimed, 
"  At  last !  at  last !  I  am  freed  !  " 

Then  came  so  strange  and  wonderful  a 
change  that  Avilla  could  hardly  believe  her 
own  eyes.  Instead  of  the  ugly,  cross-looking 
old  crone,  there  stood  a  beautiful  princess, 
with  long  golden  hair,  and  tender  blue  eyes, 
her  face  radiant  with  joy.  Her  story  was  soon 
told.  Hundreds  of  years  ago  she  had  been 
changed  into  the  bent  old  woman,  and  shut  up 
in  the  dark  cave  on  the  mountain-side,  because 


30  IN  STOBY-LAND. 

she,  a  daughter  of  the  King,  had  been  selfish 
and  idle,  thinking  only  of  herself,  and  her 
punishment  had  been  that  she  must  remain 
thus  disguised  and  separated  from  all  com- 
panions and  friends  until  she  could  find  some- 
one who  would  be  generous  and  brave  enough 
to  take  the  long,  dangerous  journey  around 
the  world  for  the  sake  of  others.  Her  mother 
had  been  a  fairy  princess  and  had  taught  her 
many  things  which  we  mortals  have  yet  to 
learn.  She  showed  the  child  Avilla  how,  by 
dipping  the  golden  thread  into  a  spring  of 
ordinary  water,  she  could  change  the  water 
into  golden  water,  which  glittered  and  sparkled 
like  liquid  sunshine.  Filling  a  pitcher  with 
this  they  hastened  together  to  where  the  little 
blind  sister  sat  in  darkness  waiting  for  some 
one  to  come  and  lead  her  home.  The  beauti- 
ful princess  told  Avilla  to  dip  her  hands  into 
the  bowl  of  enchanted  water,  and  then  press 
them  upon  the  closed  eyes  of  her  sister.  They 
opened  I  And  the  little  blind  girl  could  see  I 
After  that  the  fairy  princess  came  and  lived 
with  little  Avilla  and  her  sister,  and  taught 
them  how  to  do  many  wonderful  things,  of 
which  I  have  not  time  to  tell  you  to-day. 


PRINCE     HARWEDA     AND      THE 
MAGIC  PRISON. 

Litttle  Harweda  was  born  a  prince.  His 
father  was  King  over  all  the  land  and  his 
mother  was  the  most  beautiful  Queen  the 
world  had  ever  seen  and  Prince  Harweda  was 
their  only  child.  From  the  day  of  his  birth 
everything  that  love  or  money  could  do  for  him 
had  been  done.  The  very  wind  of  heaven  was 
made  to  fan  over  an  seolian  harp  that  it  might 
enter  his  room,  not  as  a  strong  fresh  breeze, 
but  as  a  breath  of  music.  Eeflectors  were  so 
arranged  in  the  windows  that  twice  as  much 
moonlight  fell  on  his  crib  as  on  that  of  any 
ordinary  child.  The  pillow  on  which  his  head 
rested  was  made  out  of  the  down  from  hum- 
ming birds  breasts  and  the  water  in  which  his 
face  and  hands  were  washed  was  always  steeped 
in  rose  leaves  before  being  brought  to  the 
nursery.  Everything  that  could  be  done  was 
done,  and  nothing  which  could  add  to  his  ease 
or  comfort  was  left  undone. 

But  his  parents,  although  they  were  King 
and  Queen,  were  not  very  wise,  for  they  never 

(31) 


32  Iff  STOKY-LAND. 

thought  of  making  the  young  prince  think  of 
anybody  but  himself  and  he  had  never  in  all 
his  life  given  up  any  one  of  his  comforts  that 
somebody  else  might  have  a  pleasure.  So,  of 
course,  he  grew  to  be  selfish  and  peevish,  and 
by  the  time  he  was  five  years  old  he  was  so 
disagreeable  that  nobody  loved  him.  "  Dear, 
dear  I  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  said  the  poor  Queen 
mother  and  the  King  only  sighed  and  answered 
"  Ah,  what  indeed  !  "  They  were  both  very 
much  grieved  at  heart  for  they  well  knew  that 
little  Harweda,  although  he  was  a  prince, 
would  never  grow  up  to  be  a  really  great  King 
unless  he  could  make  his  people  love  him. 

At  last  they  decided  to  send  for  his  fairy 
god-mother  and  see  if  she  could  suggest  any- 
thing which  would  cure  Prince  Harweda  of 
always  thinking  about  himself.  "  Well,  well, 
well!"  exclaimed  the  god-mother  when  they 
had  laid  the  case  before  her  — "  This  is  a 
pretty  state  of  affairs !  and  I  his  god- mother 
too  !  Why  wasn't  I  called  in  sooner?  "  She 
then  told  them  that  she  would  have  to  think  a 
day  and  a  night  and  a  day  again  before  she 
could  offer  them  any  assistance.  "  But," 
added  she,  "  if  I  take  the  child  in  charge  you 
must  promise  not  to  interfere  for  a  whole 
year."  The  King  and  Queen  gladly  promised 


PRINCE  H Alt  WE  DA.  83 

that  they  would  not  speak  to  or  even  see  their 
son  for  the  required  time  if  the  fairy  god- 
mother would  only  cure  him  of  his  selfish- 
ness. "  We'll  see  about  that,"  said  the 
god-mother,  "  Humph,  expecting  to  be  a  King 
some  day  and  not  caring  for  anybody  but 
Aimself  —  a  fine  King  he'll  make!"  With 
that  off  she  flew  and  the  King  and  Queen  saw 
nothing  more  of  her  for  a  day  and  a  night  and 
another  day.  Then  back  she  came  in  a  great 
hurry.  "  Give  me  the  Prince,"  said  she;  "  I 
have  his  house  all  ready  for  him.  One  month 
from  to-day  I'll  bring  him  back  to  you.  Per- 
haps he'll  be  cured  and  perhaps  he  won't.  If 
he  is  not  cured  then  we  shall  try  two  months 
next  time.  We'll  see,  we'll  see."  Without 
any  more  ado  she  picked  up  the  astonished 
young  prince  and  flew  away  with  him  as 
lightly  as  if  he  were  nothing  but  a  feather  or 
a  straw.  In  vain  the  poor  queen  wept  and 
begged  for  a  last  kiss.  Before  she  had  wiped 
her  eyes,  the  fairy  god- mother  and  Prince 
Harweda  were  out  of  sight. 

They  flew  a  long  distance  until  they  reached 
a  great  forest.  When  they  had  come  to  the 
middle  of  it,  down  flew  the  fairy,  and  in  a 
minute  more  the  young  prince  was  standing 
on  the  green  grass  beside  a  beautiful  pink 


84  72V  8TOHY-LAN2}. 

marble  palace  that  looked  something  like  a  good 
sized  summer  house. 

"  This  is  your  home/'  said  the  god-mother, 
"  in  it  you  will  find  everything  you  need  and 
you  can  do  just  as  you  choose  with  your  time." 
Little  Harweda  was  delighted  at  this  for  there 
was  nothing  in  the  world  he  liked  better  than 
to  do  as  he  pleased,  so  he  tossed  his  cap  up 
into  the  air  and  ran  into  the  lovely  little  house 
without  so  much  as  saying  "  Thank  you  "  to 
his  god-mother.  *'  Humph,"  said  she  as  he 
disappeared,  "  you'll  have  enough  of  it  before 
you  are  through  with  it,  my  fine  prince." 
With  that  off  she  flew. 

Prince  Harweda  had  no  sooner  set  his  foot 
inside  the  small  rose-colored  palace  than  the 
iron  door  shut  with  a  bang  and  locked  itself. 
For  you  must  know  by  this  time  that  it  was  an 
enchanted  house,  as  of  course,  all  houses  are 
that  are  built  by  fairies. 

Prince  Harweda  did  not  mind  being  locked 
in,  as  he  cared  very  little  for  the  great  beauti- 
ful outside  world,  and  the  new  home  which  was 
to  be  all  his  own  was  very  fine,  and  he  was  eager 
and  impatient  to  examine  it.  Then  too  he 
thought  that  when  he  was  tired  of  it,  all  he 
would  have  to  do  would  be  to  kick  on  the  door 
and  a  servant  from  somewhere  would  come 


PRINCE  HARWEDA.  35 

and  open  it, —  he  had  always  had  a  servant 
ready  to  obey  his  slightest  command. 

His  fairy  god-mother  had  told  him  that  it 
was  his  house,  therefore  he  was  interested  in 
looking  at  everything  in  it. 

The  floor  was  made  of  a  beautiful  red  copper 
that  shone  in  the  sunlight  like  burnished  gold 
and  seemed  almost  a  dark  red  in  the  shadow. 
He  had  never  seen  anything  half  so  fine  before. 
The  ceiling  was  of  mother-of-pearl  and  showed 
a  constant  changing  of  tints  of  red  and  blue 
and  yellow  and  green,  all  blending  into  the 
gleaming  white,  as  only  mother-of-pearl  can. 
From  the  middle  of  this  handsome  ceiling 
hung  a  large  gilded  bird  cage  containing  a 
beautiful  bird,  which  just  at  this  moment  was 
singing  a  glad  song  of  welcome  to  the  Prince. 
Harweda,  however,  cared  very  little  about 
birds,  so  he  took  no  notice  of  the  songster. 

Around  on  every  side  were  costly  divans 
with  richly  embroidered  coverings  and  on 
which  were  many  sizes  of  soft  down  pillows. 
"Ah,"  thought  the  Prince,  "here  I  can 
lounge  at  my  ease  with  no  one  to  call  me  to 
stupid  lessons!"  Wonderfully  carved  jars 
and  vases  of  wrought  gold  and  silver  stood 
about  on  the  floor  and  each  was  filled  with  a 
different  kind  of  perfume.  "  This  ia  deli- 


36  IN  STORY-LAND. 

clous,"  said  Prince  Harweda.  "Now  I  can 
have  all  the  sweet  odors  I  want  without  the 
trouble  of  going  out  into  the  garden  for  roses 
or  lilies." 

In  the  center  of  the  room  was  a  fountain 
of  sparkling  water  which  leaped  up  and  fell 
back  into  its  marble  basin  with  a  kind  of 
rythmical  sound  that  made  a  faint,  dreamy 
music  very  pleasant  to  listen  to. 

On  a  table  near  at  hand  were  various 
baskets  of  the  most  tempting  pears  and 
grapes  and  peaches,  and  near  them  were  dishes 
of  all  kinds  of  sweetmeats.  "  Good,"  said 
the  greedy  young  prince,  "  that  is  what  I  like 
best  of  all,"  and  therewith  he  fell  to  eating 
the  fruit  and  sweetmeats  as  fast  as  he  could 
cram  them  into  his  mouth.  He  ate  so  much 
he  had  a  pain  in  his  stomach,  but  strange  to 
say,  the  table  was  just  as  full  as  when  he 
began,  for  no  sooner  did  he  reach  his  hand 
out  and  take  a  soft  mellow  pear  or  a  rich, 
juicy  peach  than  another  pear  or  peach  took 
its  place  in  the  basket.  The  same  thing 
occurred  when  he  helped  himself  to  chocolate 
drops  or  marsh-mallows  or  any  of  the  other  con- 
fectionery upon  the  table.  For,  of  course,  if 
the  little  palace  was  enchanted,  everything  in 
it  was  enchanted,  also. 


PRINCE  HARWEDA.  37 

When  Prince  Harweda  had  eaten  until  he 
could  eat  no  more  he  threw  himself  down  upon 
one  of  the  couches  and  an  invisible  hand 
gently  stroked  his  hair  until  he  fell  asleep. 
When  he  awoke  he  noticed  for  the  first  time 
the  walls  which,  by  the  way,  were  really  the 
strangest  part  of  his  new  home.  They  had 
in  them  twelve  long,  checkered  windows  which 
reached  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor.  The 
spaces  between  the  windows  were  filled  in  with 
mirrors  exactly  the  same  size  as  the  windows, 
so  that  the  whole  room  was  walled  in  with 
windows  and  looking  glasses.  Through  the 
three  windows  that  looked  to  the  north  could 
be  seen  the  far  distant  mountains  Beautiful, 
as  they  were  called,  towering  high  above  the 
surrounding  country ;  sometimes  their  snow- 
covered  tops  were  pink  or  creamy  yellow  as 
they  caught  the  rays  of  the  sunrise;  some- 
times they  were  dark  purple  or  blue  as 
they  reflected  the  storm  cloud.  From 
the  three  windows  that  faced  the  south 
could  be  seen  the  great  ocean,  tossing  and 
moving,  constantly  catching  a  thousand  gleams 
of  silver  from  the  moonlight.  Again  and 
again,  each  little  wave  would  be  capped  with 
white  from  its  romp  with  the  wind.  Yet,  as 
the  huge  mountains  seemed  to  reach  higher 


38  IN  STOKY-LAND. 

than  man  could  climb,  so  the  vast  ocean  seemed 
to  stretch  out  farther  than  any  ship  could 
possibly  carry  him.  The  eastern  windows 
gave  each  morning  a  glorious  vision  of  sky  as 
the  darkness  of  the  night  slowly  melted  into 
the  still  gray  dawn,  and  that  changed  into  a 
golden  glow  and  that  in  turn  became  a  tender 
pink.  It  was  really  the  most  beautiful  as  well 
as  the  most  mysterious  sight  on  earth  if  one 
watched  it  closely.  The  windows  on  the  west 
looked  out  upon  a  great  forest  of  tall  fir  trees 
and  at  the  time  of  sunset  the  glorious  colors 
of  the  sunset  sky  could  be  seen  between  the 
dark  green  branches. 

But  little  Prince  Harweda  cared  for  none 
of  these  beautiful  views.  In  fact,  he  scarcely 
glanced  out  of  the  windows  at  all,  he  was  so 
taken  up  with  the  broad  handsome  mirrors, 
for  in  each  of  them  he  could  see  himself 
reflected  and  he  was  very  fond  of  looking  at 
himself  in  a  looking  glass.  He  was  much 
pleased  when  he  noticed  that  the  mirrors  were 
so  arranged  that  each  one  not  only  reflected 
his  whole  body,  head,  arms,  feet  and  all,  but 
that  it  also  reflected  his  image  as  seen  in 
several  of  the  other  mirrors.  He  could  thus 
see  his  front  and  back  and  each  side,  all  at  the 
same  time.  As  he  was  a  handsome  boy  he 


PRINCE  HARWEDA.  39 

enjoyed  these  many  views  of  himself  im- 
mensely, and  would  stand  and  sit  and  lie  down 
just  for  the  fun  of  seeing  the  many  images  of 
himself  do  the  same  thing. 

He  spent  so  much  time  looking  at  and 
admiring  himself  in  the  wonderful  looking- 
glasses  that  he  had  very  little  time  for  the 
books  and  games  which  had  been  provided  for 
his  amusement.  Hours  were  spent  each  day 
first  before  one  mirror  and  then  another,  and 
he  did  not  notice  that  the  windows  were  grow- 
ing narrower  and  the  mirrors  wider  until  the 
former  had  become  so  small  that  they  hardly 
admitted  light  enough  for  him  to  see  himself 
in  the  looking-glass.  Still,  this  did  not  alarm 
him  very  much  as  he  cared  nothing  whatever 
for  the  outside  world.  It  only  made  him 
spend  more  time  before  the  mirror,  as  it  was 
now  getting  quite  difficult  for  him  to  see  him- 
self at  all.  The  windows  at  last  became  mere 
slits  in  the  wall  and  the  mirrors  grew  so  large 
that  they  not  only  reflected  little  Harweda 
but  all  of  the  room  besides  in  a  dim,  indistinct 
kind  of  a  way. 

Finally,  however,  Prince  Harweda  awoke 
one  morning  and  found  himself  in  total  dark- 
ness. Not  a  ray  of  light  came  from  the  out- 
side and  of  course,  not  an  object  in  the  room 


40  ztf  STORY-LAND. 

could  be  seen.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  sat 
up  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  dreaming. 
Then  he  called  loudly  for  some  one  to  come 
and  open  a  window  for  him,  but  no  one  came. 
He  got  up  and  groped  his  way  to  the  iron 
door  and  tried  to  open  it,  but  it  was,  as  you 
know,  locked.  He  kicked  it  and  beat  upon  it, 
but  he  only  bruised  his  fists  and  hurt  his  toes. 
He  grew  quite  angry  now.  How  dare  any  one 
shut  him,  a  prince,  up  in  a  dark  prison  like 
this!  He  abused  his  fairy  god-mother, 
calling  her  all  sorts  of  horrid  names.  Then 
he  upbraided  his  father  and  mother,  the  King 
and  Queen,  for  letting  him  go  away  with  such 
a  god-mother.  In  fact,  he  blamed  everybody 
and  everything  but  himself  for  his  present 
condition,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  The  sound 
of  his  own  voice  was  his  only  answer.  The 
whole  of  the  outside  world  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  him. 

As  he  felt  his  way  back  to  his  couch  he 
knocked  over  one  of  the  golden  jars  which  had 
held  the  liquid  perfume,  but  the  perfume  was 
all  gone  now  and  only  an  empty  jar  rolled  over 
the  floor.  He  laid  himself  down  on  the  divan 
but  its  soft  pillows  had  been  removed  and  a 
hard  iron  frame-work  received  him.  He  was 
dismayed  and  lay  for  a  long  time  thinking  of 


PRINCE   HARWEDA.  41 

what  he  had  best  do  with  himself.  All  before 
him  was  blank  darkness,  as  black  as  the  darkest 
night  you  ever  saw.  He  reached  out  his  hand 
to  get  some  fruit  to  eat,  but  only  one  or  two 
withered  apples  remained  on  the  table  —  was 
he  to  starve  to  death?  Suddenly  he  noticed 
that  the  tinkling  music  of  the  fountain  had 
ceased.  He  hastily  groped  his  way  over  to  it 
and  he  found  in  place  of  the  dancing,  running 
stream  stood  a  silent  pool  of  water.  A  hush 
had  fallen  upon  everything  about  him,  a  dead 
silence  was  in  the  room.  He  threw  himself 
down  upon  the  floor  and  wished  that  he  were 
dead  also.  He  lay  there  for  a  long,  long 
time. 

At  last  he  heard,  or  thought  he  heard,  a 
faint  sound.  He  listened  eagerly.  It  seemed 
to  be  some  tiny  creature  not  far  from  him, 
trying  to  move  about.  For  the  first  time  for 
nearly  a  month  he  remembered  the  bird  in  its 
gilded  cage.  "  Poor  little  thing,"  he  cried 
as  he  sprang  up,  "  You  too  are  shut  within  this 
terrible  prison.  This  thick  darkness  must  be 
as  hard  for  you  to  bear  as  it  is  for  me."  He 
went  towards  the  cage  and  as  he  approached 
it  the  bird  gave  a  sad  little  chirp. 

"  That's  better  than  nothing,"  said  the  boy, 
"you  must  need  some  water  to  drink,  poor 


42  £ZV  STORY-LAND. 

thing,"  continued  he  as  he  filled  its  drinking 
cup.  "  This  is  all  I  have  to  give  you." 

Just  then  he  heard  a  harsh,  grating  sound, 
as  of  rusty  bolts  sliding  with  difficulty  out  of 
their  sockets,  and  then  faint  rays  of  light  not 
wider  than  a  hair  began  to  shine  between  the 
heavy  plate  mirrors.  Prince  Harweda  was 
filled  with  joy.  "Perhaps,  perhaps,"  said  he 
softly,  "  I  may  yet  see  the  light  again.  Ah, 
how  beautiful  the  outside  world  would  look  to 
me  now !  " 

The  next  day  he  was  so  hungry  that  he 
began  to  eat  one  of  the  old  withered  apples, 
and  as  he  bit  it  he  thought  of  the  bird,  his 
fellow-prisoner.  "  You  must  be  hungry,  too, 
poor  little  thing,"  said  he  as  he  divided  his 
miserable  food  and  put  part  of  it  into  the 
bird's  cage.  Again  came  the  harsh,  grating 
sound ,  and  the  boy  noticed  that  the  cracks  of 
light  were  growing  larger.  Still  they  were 
only  cracks,  nothing  of  the  outside  world 
could  be  seen.  Still  it  was  a  comfort  not  to 
have  to  grope  about  in  total  darkness.  Prince 
Harweda  felt  quite  sure  that  the  cracks  of 
light  were  a  little  wider,  and  on  going  up  to 
one  and  putting  his  eye  close  to  it  as  he 
would  to  a  pinhole  in  a  paper,  he  was  re- 
joiced to  find  that  he  could  tell  the  greenness 


PRINCE  HARWEDA.  43 

of  the  grass  from  the  blue  of  the  sky.  "  Ah, 
my  pretty  bird,  my  pretty  bird!"  he  cried 
joyfully,  "  I  have  had  a  glimpse  of  the  great 
beautiful  outside  world  and  you  shall  have  it 
too." 

With  these  words  he  climbed  up  into  a 
chair  and  loosening  the  cage  from  the  golden 
chain  by  which  it  hung,  he  carried  it  care- 
fully to  the  nearest  crack  of  light  and  placed 
it  close  to  the  narrow  opening.  Again  was 
heard  the  harsh,  grating  sound  and  the  walls 
moved  a  bit  and  the  windows  were  now  at 
least  an  inch  wide.  At  this  the  poor  Prince 
clasped  his  hands  with  delight.  He  sat  him- 
self down  near  the  bird  cage  and  gazed  out  of 
the  narrow  opening.  Never  before  had  the 
trees  looked  so  tall  and  stately,  or  the  white 
clouds  floating  through  the  sky  so  lovely.  The 
next  day  as  he  was  carefully  cleaning  the 
bird's  cage  so  that  the  little  creature  might  be 
somewhat  more  comfortable,  the  walls  again 
creaked  and  groaned  and  the  mirrors  grew 
narrower  by  just  so  many  inches  as  the  win- 
dows widened.  But  Prince  Harwedasaw  only 
the  flood  of  sunshine  that  poured  in,  and  the 
added  beauty  of  the  larger  landscape.  He 
cared  nothing  whatever  now  for  the  stupid 
mirrors  which  could  only  reflect  what  was 


44  IN  STOR7-LAND. 

placed  before  them.  Each  day  he  found 
something  new  and  beautiful  in  the  view  from 
the  narrow  windows.  Now  it  was  a  squirrel 
frisking  about  and  running  up  some  tall  tree 
trunk  so  rapidly  that  Prince  Harweda  could 
not  follow  it  with  his  eyes;  again  it  was  a 
mother  bird  feeding  her  young.  By  this  time 
the  windows  were  a  foot  wide  or  more.  One 
day  as  two  white  doves  suddenly  soared  aloft 
in  the  blue  sky  the  poor  little  canary  who  had 
now  become  the  tenderly  cared  for  comrade  of 
the  young  Prince,  gave  a  pitiful  little  trill. 
"  Dear  little  fellow,"  cried  Prince  Harweda, 
"  do  you  also  long  for  your  freedom?  You 
shall  at  least  be  as  free  as  I  am."  So  saying, 
he  opened  the  cage  door  and  the  bird  flew  out. 
The  Prince  laughed  as  he  watched  it  flutter 
about  from  chair  to  table  and  back  to  chair 
again.  He  was  so  much  occupied  with  the 
bird  that  he  did  not  notice  that  the  walls 
had  again  shaken  and  the  windows  were  now 
their  full  size,  until  the  added  light  caused 
him  to  look  around.  He  turned  and  saw 
the  room  looking  almost  exactly  as  it 
did  the  day  he  entered  it  with  so  much 
pride  because  it  was  all  his  own.  Now  it 
seemed  close  and  stuffy  and  he  would  gladly 
have  exchanged  it  for  the  humblest  home  in 


PRINCE  EAR  WED  A.  46 

his  father's  kingdom  where  he  could  meet 
people  and  hear  them  talk  and  see  them  smile 
at  each  other,  even  if  they  should  take  no 
notice  of  him.  One  day  soon  after  this  the 
little  bird  fluttered  up  against  the  window  pane 
and  beat  his  wings  against  it  in  a  vain  effort 
to  get  out.  A  new  idea  seized  the  young 
Prince,  and  tak  ing  up  one  of  the  golden  jars  he 
went  to  the  window  and  struck  on  one  of  its 
checkered  panes  of  glass  with  all  his  force. 
"  You  shall  be  free,  even  if  I  can  not,"  said 
he  to  the  bird.  Two  or  three  strong  blows 
shivered  the  small  pane  and  the  bird  swept  out 
into  the  free  open  air  beyond.  "  Ah,  my 
pretty  one,  how  glad  I  am  that  you  are  free  at 
last,"  exclaimed  the  prince  as  he  stood  watch- 
ing the  flight  of  his  fellow-prisoner.  His  face 
was  bright  with  the  glad,  unselfish  joy  over  the 
bird's  liberty.  The  small,  pink  marble  palace 
shook  from  top  to  bottom,  the  iron  door  flew 
open  and  the  fresh  wind  from  the  sea  rushed 
in  and  seemed  to  catch  the  boy  in  its  invisible 
arms.  Prince  Harweda  could  hardly  believe 
his  eyes  as  he  sprang  to  the  door.  There 
stood  his  fairy  god-mother,  smiling  and  with 
her  hand  reached  out  toward  him.  «'  Come, 
my  god-child,"  said  she  gently,  "  we  shall  now 
go  back  to  your  father  and  mother,  the  King 


46  IN  STORY-LAND. 

and  Queen,  and  they  will  rejoice  with  us  that 
you  have  been  cured  of  your  terrible  disease 
of  selfishness." 

Great  indeed  was  the  rejoicing  in  the  palace 
when  Prince  Harweda  was  returned  to  them  a 
sweet,  loving  boy,  kind  and  thoughtful  to  all 
about  him.  Many  a  struggle  he  had  with  him- 
self and  many  a  conquest  over  the  old  habit  of 
selfishness,  but  as  time  passed  by  he  grew  to 
be  a  great  and  wise  king,  loving  and  tenderly 
caring  for  all  his  people  and  loved  by  them  in 
return. 


THE    LITTLE     GRAY    GRANDMOTHER; 

OK, 
THE  ENCHANTED  MIRROR. 

Nobody  knew  whence  she  came  or  whither 
she  went.  All  that  any  one  of  the  children 
could  have  told  you  about  her,  was  that  often- 
times they  looked  up  from  their  play  and  there 
she  stood,  in  her  soft  misty  gray  gown,  and 
still  softer,  long,  gray  cloak  and  shadowy  gray 
veil  which  always  reminded  them  of  thin  smoke. 
Sometimes  her  face  could  scarcely  be  seen 
behind  this  mysterious  veil,  and  sometimes  it 
shone  quite  clear  and  distinct.  This  was 
always  the  case  when  any  one  of  them  had 
done  some  unselfish  or  brave  act  and  thought 
no  one  knew  it.  And  yet,  if  happy  with  the 
thought,  he  or  she  chanced  to  look  up,  there 
would  be  the  Little  Gray  Grandmother,  her 
face  fairly  shining  with  the  glad  smile  of 
approval.  Then  suddenly  she  would  disap- 
pear and  they  would  not  hear  of  her  for  days 
and  days. 

There  was  a  large  family  of  them,  and  they 

(47) 


had  sharp  eyes  too,  but  none  of  them  ever  saw 
her  coming  until,  as  I  said  before,  there  she 
stood  in  the  midst  of  them.  They  lived  near 
the  great  sea,  and  its  mist  often  covered  the 
coast  for  miles  and  miles  so  that  nothing  but 
the  dim  outline  of  objects  could  be  seen. 
Therefore,  their  city  cousins  had  fallen  into 
the  way  of  laughing  at  them  and  saying  the 
Little  Gray  Grandmother  was  only  a  bit  of  the 
sea  fog  left  behind  after  a  damp  day,  but  they 
knew  better. 

Although  she  had  never  spoken  to  them, 
had  she  not  smiled  at  them,  and  sometimes 
looked  sad  when  she  came  upon  them  suddenly 
and  found  any  one  of  them  doing  a  mean  or 
greedy  deed,  and  ah,  how  stern  her  eyes  were 
the  day  she  found  Wilhelm  telling  a  lie ! 
Nobody  could  make  them  believe  that  she 
was  only  a  dream  which  came  from  a  bit  of 
sea  fog!  Then,  too,  had  she  not  left  that 
thimble  for  Mai  which  was  no  sooner  placed 
on  her  thimble-finger  than  it  began  to  push 
the  needle  so  fast  that  a  seam  a  yard  long 
would  be  finished  before  you  could  say,  "  Jack 
Robinson,"  unless  you  had  practiced  saying  it 
very  often. 

Who  else  was  it  that  brought  those  tall 
leather  boots  for  Gregory  which  helped  him 


THE  LITTLE  GRAY  GRANDMOTHER.       49 

to  run  so  fast  when  sent  on  an  errand  that 
even  his  dog,  Oyster,  could  not  keep  up  with 
him?  And  as  for  Lelia,  everybody  knew  that 
it  was  just  after  the  Little  Gray  Grandmother 
had  paid  them  a  visit  Lelia  had  found  herself 
holding  that  bottle  of  Attic  salt  from  far-away 
Greece,  two  grains  of  which  placed  on  the  end 
of  her  tongue,  caused  good  humor  and  wit  to 
flow  with  every  word  she  said  until  she  was 
equal  to  a  bit  of  sunshine  on  a  dark  day. 

All  of  them  were  as  certain  as  certain  could 
be  that  she  had  presented  Doodle  when  he  was 
a»very  little  child  with  those  soft,  warm  mit- 
tens which  somehow  grew  as  he  grew  and  so 
always  just  fitted  his  hands.  What  wonder- 
ful mittens  they  were,  too !  All  Doodle  had 
to  do  on  the  coldest  day  was  to  reach  out  his 
hand  in  his  hearty,  cheery  way,  to  any  one,  and 
no  matter  how  cold  that  person  might  be,  even 
if  his  teeth  were  chattering  with  the  cold,  he 
was  sure  to  feel  a  warm  glow  all  over  his 
body.  This  was  how  Doodle  got  into  the  way 
of  taking  care  of  all  the  lame  dogs  and  sick 
cats  that  came  along;  and  why  all  the  old  peo- 
ple liked  him.  They  said  he  made  them  feel 
young  again.  And  Tom  and  Wilhelm  and  the 
rest  of  them,  had  not  the  Little  Gray  Grand- 
mother left  a  gift  for  each  of  them  ? 
4 


50  jy  STORY-LAND. 

Ah,  but  they  were  a  happy  family!  What 
if  they  did  have  to  eat  herring  and  dry  bread 
all  the  year  round,  with  potatoes  now  and  then 
thrown  in,  and  had  to  live  in  a  hut,  didn't 
they  have  a  Little  Gray  Grandmother,  when 
so  many  city  children,  who  thought  themselves 
fine  because  they  lived  in  big  houses,  had 
never  even  heard  of  her  ! 

Now,  you  can  understand  why  all  the  chil- 
dren were  gathered  together  eagerly  looking 
at  something  which  lay  on  the  sand  before 
them.  The  Little  Gray  Grandmother  had 
been  there  and  had  left  something.  What  was 
it?  They  could  not  tell.  It  glittered  like  the 
surface  of  a  pool  of  water  when  it  is  quite 
still  and  the  sun  shines  down  upon  it,  and  they 
could  see  their  faces  reflected  on  it  just  as  they 
had  often  seen  them  in  the  well  back  of  the 
house,  only  this  mirrored  their  faces  much 
more  clearly  than  the  well  did.  What  was  it? 
For  whom  had  the  Little  Gray  Grandmother 
intended  it?  These  were  the  questions  they 
could  not  answer.  So  they  decided  to  take  it 
in  to  the  dear-mother  and  have  her  explain  it 
to  them. 

Ah,  the  dear-mother,  she  must  know,  she 
knew  almost  everything  and  what  she  didn't 
know  she  always  tried  to  find  out  for  them. 


THE  LITTLE  GBAY  GRANDMOTHER.       51 

That  was  the  finest  thing  about  the  dear- 
mother.  Of  course  she  cooked  their  food  for 
them,  and  made  their  clothes,  and  nursed  any 
of  them  when  they  were  ill,  and  all  such  things, 
but  the  great  thing  about  her  was  that  she 
never  seemed  too  busy  to  look  at  what  they 
brought  her  and  was  always  ready  to  answer 
their  questions.  Therefore  they  with  one 
accord  decided  to  take  this  new  gift  into  the 
house  and  ask  the  dear-mother  about  it. 

Of  course  she  admired  it ;  she  always  ad- 
mired everything  they  brought  her,  if  it  was 
only  a  star-fish  or  a  new  kind  of  sea-weed. 
She  said  it  was  made  of  some  sort  of  precious 
metal,  and  that  it  seemed  to  be  a  mirror  such 
ks  they  used  in  olden  times  before  looking- 
glasses  had  been  invented.  "Perhaps,"  she 
added,  "  it  has  been  washed  up  from  the  sea." 
But  the  children  cried,  "  Oh,  no,  the  Little 
Gray  Grandmother  left  it."  They  were  very, 
very  sure  of  that.  But  for  whom  had  it  been 
left?  Even  the  dear-mother  could  not  settle 
this  question. 

At  last  it  was  decided  that  it  should  be  hung 
on  the  cottage  wall  that  all  might  use  it;  so 
there  it  hung  for  many  a  year,  and  ah,  such 
strange  things  as  the  children  saw  reflected  in 
it!  It  was  not  at  all  like  an  ordinary  mirror, 


52  J2V  STORY-LAND. 

not  in  the  least  like  anything  you  ever  saw, 
and  yet,  perchance  you  may  have  seen  some- 
thing like  it.  How  do  I  know? 

Well,  at  any  rate  the  children  had  never 
heard  of  such  a  wonderful  mirror  before.  It 
had  a  queer  way  of  swinging  itself  on  its 
hinge  —  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  it  had  been 
fastened  to  the  wall  by  a  hinge  so  that  its  face 
could  be  turned  toward  the  east  or  the  west 
window,  and  thus  let  the  children  see  them- 
selves in  the  morning  as  well  as  the  evening 
light.  At  first  they  thought  this  was  a  fine 
idea,  but  sometimes  it  was  not  exactly  com- 
fortable to  have  the  small  mirror  suddenly 
swing  round  and  face  them  when  they  didn't 
care  to  be  faced. 

For  instance,  when  Mai  had  been  working 
hard  all  day  and  because  she  felt  tired,  spoke 
crossly  to  the  little  brothers,  it  was  not  at  all 
agreeable  to  look  up  and  see  the  face  of  a 
bear  reflected  in  the  silver  mirror,  or  when 
Gregory  had  been  boasting  of  something  fine 
he  was  going  to  accomplish,  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  a  barnyard  rooster  strutting  about  as  if  he 
were  indeed  the  master  of  the  farm.  Some- 
how it  made  Gregory  feel  foolish  even  if  the 
rest  of  the  children  did  not  see  the  image  in  the 
mirror.  Once  little  Beta  came  in  ahead  of  the 


THE  LITTLE  GRAY  GRANDMOTHER.   53 

others,  and,  finding  some  apples  that  the  father 
had  brought  home,  seized  the  largest  one 
and  began  to  devour  it.  A  swing  of  the  sil- 
ver mirror  brought  its  polished  surface  before 
her  eves,  and  instead  of  a  reflection  of  her  own 
chubby  face,  she  saw  a  pig  greedily  devouring 
a  pile  of  apples.  She  couldn't  understand  it, 
and  yet  it  made  her  feel  ashamed  and  she 
quietly  laid  the  apple  back  on  the  table. 

But  the  pictures  were  not  all  disagreeable 
/mes.  Sometimes  the  small  silver  mirror  re- 
flected beautiful  pictures.  One  bright  summer 
day  when  Mai  had  stayed  indoors  all  the  morn- 
ing to  help  the  dear-mother  finish  a  jacket  for 
Beta,  when  she  was  longing  with  all  her  heart 
to  be  out  in  the  sunshine,  she  chanced  to 
glance  up  at  the  small  mirror,  and  there  was 
the  vision  of  a  beautiful  Saint,  with  a  golden 
light  around  her  head  such  as  Mai  had  seen  in 
a  church  window  once  when  she  was  in  the 
city.  The  smile  on  the  face  was  radiant.  In 
a  moment  the  vision  had  disappeared  and  only 
the  shining  surface  of  silver  remained. 

One  day  Gregory  rowed  little  Beta  across 
the  bay  to  the  large  town  on  the  other  side, 
and  did  without  his  dinner  that  with  his  little 
/arthing  he  might  pay  for  the  privilege  of  let- 
ting her  climb  the  light-house  stairs  and  see 


54  IN  STOfiY-LAND. 

how  big  the  world  was.  That  night  when  they 
reached  home,  tired  and  happy,  Beta  looked 
into  the  mirror  and  there  she  saw  the  good  St. 
Christopher  wading  through  a  dark  stream  of 
water  with  the  little  Christ-child  on  his 
shoulder,  and  somehow  the  face  of  St.  Chris- 
topher was  Gregory's  face.  As  she  cried, 
"Look!"  she  pointed  to  the  mirror,  but 
Gregory  could  see  nothing  but  its  shining  sur- 
face. Still,  Beta  ever  afterwards  called  him 
"  St.  Christopher,"  little  dreaming  that  in 
years  to  come  he  would  truly  be  the  means  by 
which  many  little  children  were  carried  safely 
across  the  dark  streams. 

At  another  time  Doodle  had  rescued  a  poor 
frightened  cat  from  some  boys  on  the  beach 
who  were  tormenting  her,  and  even  though 
they  jeered  at  him  and  called  him  "chicken- 
hearted"  he  had  taken  the  little  creature  up 
in  his  arms  and  brought  her  in  to  the  dear 
mother.  As  he  passed  the  small  silver  mirror, 
a  picture  of  a  young  knight  shone  in  the 
depths  of  its  surface,  with  a  face  so  strong 
and  pure  and  brave  that  Doodle  stopped  to 
admire  it  and  wonder  how  it  came  there. 
Again  and  again  when  the  children 
did  a  kind,  or  a  truthful,  or  loving  thing,  the 
mirror  reflected  for  a  moment  some  beautiful 


THE  LITTLE  GRAY  GRANDMOTHER.       55 

image  which  instantly  disappeared  if  it  were 
spoken  of.  Somehow  it  constantly  reminded 
them  of  the  glad  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  Little 
Gray  Grandmother  when  she  found  them  play- 
ing peacefully  and  happily  together.  And 
strange  to  say,  the  Little  Gray  Grandmother 
never  came  again  after  the  small  silver  mirror 
had  been  hung  on  the  wall.  Probably  she 
thought  they  did  not  need  her  any  longer. 

Many  years  passed  by  and  the  children  were 
all  grown,  when  the  dear-mother  was  called  to 
pass  on  to  her  heavenly  home.  As  they 
gathered  around  her  death  bed  she  asked  them 
to  hand  her  the  small  silver  mirror  which  still 
hung  on  the  home  wall.  She  took  it  and 
broke  it  into  pieces,  giving  a  piece  to  each  of 
of  the  eight  children,  and  each  piece  immedi- 
ately became  a  full-sized  mirror  as  large  as 
the  first  one  had  been.  These  she  told  them 
to  keep  always  with  them,  and  then  with  a 
gentle  smile  she  passed  away.  As  they  sepa- 
rated to  go  out  into  the  world,  each  one  took 
his  or  her  small  silver  mirror  and  hung  it  in  his 
or  her  private  bed  room,  that  each  might  look 
into  it  and  know,  for  certain,  whether  that  day 
had  been  spent  for  the  cause  of  the  right  or 
the  wrong. 


LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES; 

OB, 

THE  FAIRY'S  BIRTHDAY  GIFT. 

In  the  olden  times  when  fairies  could  be  seen 
by  mortals,  they  often  took  upon  themselves 
the  office  of  sponsors,  god-fathers  and  god- 
mothers, to  new-born  children.  In  such  cases, 
the  child  adopted  was  sure,  sooner  or  later, 
to  receive  some  wonderful  gift  from  his  fairy 
god-mother. 

One  bright,  Spring  morning,  a  sweet  boy 
baby  came  into  a  humble  home,  made  ready 
for  him  by  love.  As  his  mother  looked  fondly 
upon  the  wee  form  at  her  side  she  thought, 
naturally  enough,  of  his  future,  and  wondered 
what  kind  of  a  man  he  would  become.  "  How 
I  wish,"  said  she  softly,  "  that  I  could  give  to 
you,  my  darling  child,  the  richest  gift  on 
earth,  so  that  Kings  and  Emperors  might  be 
proud  to  call  you  their  companion."  "  So 
you  can,  "  said  a  gentle  voice  beside  her.  The 
mother  was  startled  by  the  words,  for  she 
thought  herself  alone  when  she  uttered  the 
(56) 


LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES.  57 

wish.  She  looked  to  the  right,  then  to  the 
left,  —  nobody  had  entered  the  room.  "  Ah, 
silly  woman  that  I  am,"  sighed  she.  "I 
have  let  my  own  thoughts  answer  me."  Again 
she  looked  down  at  her  babe. 

"  I  can  give  him  the  greatest  and  most  won- 
derful gift  on  earth,"  said  the  same  gentle 
voice.  This  time  the  mother  was  quite  sure 
that  some  one  had  spoken,  though  the  voice 
was  unlike  any  human  voice  she  had  ever 
heard.  It  was  so  soft  and  musical  that  it 
sounded  like  the  tinkling  of  silver  bells.  The 
poor  woman  was  quite  frightened  and  drew 
her  babe  closer  to  her  side  as  she  peered  into 
the  shadowy  corners  of  the  room. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  the  silvery  voice, 
"  Are  you  afraid  of  me!"  Following  the 
sound  this  time,  the  mother's  eyes  fell  upon  a 
tiny  creature  no  larger  than  your  thumb  who 
sat  perched  upon  a  post  of  the  bed.  The  body 
of  this  strange,  little  being  was  as  perfect  as 
that  of  any  child.  From  its  two  shoulders 
extended  two  wings  as  thin  as  gauze,  but 
gleaming  with  every  tint  of  the  rainbow. 
Upon  its  head  was  a  slender  gold  crown,  and 
its  small  face  just  at  this  moment  was  bright 
with  a  merry  smile. 

The  mother  knew  instantly  that  it  was  one  of 


58  IN  STOEY-LAND. 

the  good  fairies  who  were  reported  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  birth  of  every  babe,  and  who,  if  seen 
and  recognized,  were  sure  to  bring  some  good 
fortune  to  the  child,  but  if  unnoticed,  went 
away  sorrowing,  because  they  were  then 
powerless  to  help  the  infant. 

"What  will  you  do  for  my  child?"  cried 
the  mother.  "  Will  you  give  him  comfort  and 
ease  and  fill  his  days  with  pleasure?  " 

66  Ah  no,"  replied  the  fairy,  "  I  will  give 
him  something  far  better  than  pleasant  food 
and  a  soft  bed  and  fine  clothes!  >! 

"  Will  you  make  him  great  and  powerful  so 
that  men  may  bow  down  before  him?"  said 
the  mother  eagerly. 

'•  No  !  no  !  "  again  replied  the  fairy  shaking 
her  head.  "  I  will  give  him  something  of  far 
more  worth  than  fame  and  power !  " 

"  You  will  make  him  rich,  so  rich  that  he 
will  never  have  to  work?"  exclaimed  the 
mother. 

"Nay,  good  woman,"  said  the  fairy  seri- 
ously.  * '  These  are  but  foolish  things  for  which 
you  ask.  My  gift  is  greater  than  all  of  these 
put  together.  Pleasure  and  influence  and 
wealth  a  man  may  earn  for  himself  —  and  he 
may  be  very  miserable  after  he  gets  them, 
too,"  added  she,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 


LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES.  59 

"  The  gift  that  I  would  bestow  upon  your  son 
will  make  him  the  happiest  of  mortals  and  will 
give  him  the  power  of  making  many,  many 
others  happy  !" 

"Tell  me,"  cried  the  mother,  "how  will 
you  make  him  so  happy?  No  human  being 
is  ever  sure  of  happiness." 

"  Let  me  kiss  him  upon  his  two  eyelids  as 
he  lies  there  asleep,"  replied  the  fairy,  "and 
do  you  the  same  each  returning  birthday  and 
all  will  be  well." 

The  mother  hesitated ;  a  step  was  heard 
approaching  the  door. 

"  Quick,  quick  !  "  exclaimed  the  fairy.  "  I 
must  be  off  before  that  door  opens,  as  it  is 
forbidden  us  ever  to  be  seen  by  more  than 
one  mortal  at  a  time.  Shall  I  give  him  the 
magic  kiss  or  not?" 

"  Yes  !  "  cried  the  excited  mother,  "  I  trust 
you  will  do  no  harm  to  my  precious  child." 

Instantly  the  fairy  fluttered  down  from  the 
post  of  the  bed,  and  impressing  a  kiss  upon 
each  of  the  closed  eyelids  of  the  child,  she 
said,  softly,  "  He  shall  be  called  «  Blessed- 
Eyes.'  " 

The  door  of  the  room  swung  back  upon  its 
hinges,  the  father  of  the  child  entered  with  a 
cheery  "  Good  morning"  to  wife  and  babe, 


60  IN"  STOBY-LAND. 

the  fairy  was  gone. — The  mother  silently 
pondered  over  what  had  happened  and  when 
the  christening  day  came,  she  said  his  name 
was  to  be  "  Blessed-Eyes." 

Most  of  her  friends  and  relatives  thought 
this  was  a  very  queer  name  indeed  to  give  to  a 
child,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  argue  With 
the  father  that  the  little  one  ought  to  be 
named  "  John  "  or  "  James  "  after  one  or  the 
other  of  his  two  grandfathers.  But  as  the 
boy  grew  into  a  sweet,  healthy  childhood, 
loving  and  kind  to  everyone,  they  were 
gradually  reconciled  to  the  name,  and  little 
Blessed-Eyes  became  a  general  favorite.  He 
was  always  sunshiny,  always  happy.  His 
mother  never  failed  on  each  new  birthday  to 
rise  early,  even  before  the  day  dawned,  and 
to  go  to  his  bedside,  and,  bending  over  him, 
kiss  his  two  eyelids  as  the  fairly  had  bidden. 
At  such  times  she  imagined  that  she  heard  a 
faint  sound  as  of  a  faraway  chorus  of  strange, 
silvery  voices,  singing: 

"  Love  well,  love  well,  love  well, 
That  the  heart  within  may  swell, 
Love  well,  love  well,  love  well!  " 

Still,  she  was  never  quite  sure  but  that  it 
was  merely  the  first  mellow  tones  of  the 
church  bell  in  a  distant  village. 


LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES.  61 

Long  before  her  child  could  talk  the  mother 
noticed  how  closely  he  observed  everything 
about  him,  and  how  quickly  he  responded  to 
the  faintest  smile  upon  her  face.  As  he  grew 
older  it  was  a  delight  to  take  him  out  for  a 
walk.  He  was  constantly  discovering  some 
new  beauty  in  the  landscape.  He  saw  the 
first  red  glow  of  the  evening  sunset.  His 
eyes  were  the  first  to  spy  out  the  early  spring 
flower,  even  before  the  snow  was  off  the 
ground.  In  the  late  autumn  when  the  wind 
was  sharp  and  cold  and  the  woods  were  bare, 
he  was  sure  to  bring  home  some  red  mount- 
ain berries,  or  some  withered  leaf  into  a  corner 
of  which  a  cunning  little  caterpillar  had 
wrapped  himself,  sewing  it  over  and  over  as 
one  would  sew  a  bag.  Then  he  would  tell 
gleefully  how  the  frost  had  touched  the  ponds 
and  changed  them  into  smooth  glass.  Often 
on  a  cold  winter  morning  he  would  waken  his 
mother  by  clapping  his  hands  with  joy  over 
the  frost-pictures  on  the  window  pane.  Some- 
times in  the  evening  twilight  he  would  ask  his 
mother  if  the  stars  were  pinholes  in  the  floor 
of  heaven  through  which  the  glory  shone. 
No  stone  nor  cloud  nor  stream  nor  tree  but 
gave  him  pleasure. 

"Ah,"    thought  the   mother,  "this  is  the 


62  IN  STORY-LAND. 

fairy's  birthday  gift.  She  has  made  his  eyes 
to  see  the  beautiful  everywhere."  "  More 
than  that,  far  more  than  that !  Kings  and 
princes  shall  yet  call  him  great!  "  was  whis- 
pered gently  in  her  ear.  The  mother  was 
amazed.  Who  could  have  heard  her  unut- 
tered  thoughts?  She  looked  up,  but  she  only 
saw  a  robin  hopping  about  in  a  branch  of  the 
tree  overhead.  Still  she  seemed  to  hear  again 
the  soft  but  distant  singing  of  the  words, 

"  Love  well,  love  well,  love  well, 
That  the  heart  within  may  swell, 
Love  well,  love  well,  love  well.'* 

"  Surely,"  said  she,  half  aloud,  "  who  could 
help  loving  the  child.  He  has  indeed,  blessed 
eyes." 

As  the  boy  grew  older  he  seemed  somehow 
to  know  the  people  about  him  as  nobody 
else  knew  them.  He  was  always  finding  out 
the  best  that  was  in  each  of  them.  Somehow 
he  had  a  way  of  helping  all  the  other  lads  out 
of  their  difficulties.  For  instance,  early  one 
morning  when  he  chanced  to  be  passing  the 
old  basket  maker's,  he  heard  the  shop  boy 
speaking  in  loud,  angry  tones  to  the  baskets, 
abusing  them  for  being  so  contrary  and  ill- 
shaped.  Blessed-Eyes  paused,  and  looking 


LITTLE  BLESSED-EYES.  63 

through  the  open  door  he  saw  the  poor  appren- 
tice struggling  to  fit  a  round  cover  on  to  a 
square  basket  and  a  square  cover  on  to  a  round 
basket. 

"Let  me  help  you,"  said  Blessed-Eyes 
cheerily,  "  I  think  you  have  made  a  mistake, 
that's  all.  This  cover  was  intended  for  that 
basket,  and  that  cover  for  this  basket."  With 
these  words  he  put  the  round  cover  on  to  the 
round  basket,  and  the  square  cover  on  to  the 
square  basket,  and  each  fitted  snugly  into  its 
place. 

"  How  clever  you  are,  Blessed-Eyes"  said 
the  apprentice,  "  I  have  been  working  over 
these  baskets  for  the  last  half  hour."  With- 
out more  ado  he  put  them  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  started  on  his  errand,  which  was  to  deliver 
them  to  the  gardener  at  the  King's  palace. 

Years  passed  by,  changing  little  Blessed- 
Eyes  into  a  tall  young  man,  and  each  succeed- 
ing year  added  to  the  wonderful  power  which 
his  eyes  possessed,  of  seeing  the  best  that  was 
in  everything  and  everybody.  He  was  the 
friend  of  rich  and  poor.  All  sought  his  com- 
panionship, for  he  was  constantly  pointing  out 
to  them  so  many  beautiful  things  in  the  world 
about  them  which  they  would  never  have  seen 
but  for  him.  All  loved  him  dearly,  for  he 


64  IN  STORY-LAND. 

was  just  as  constantly  finding  the  best  that 
their  inner  world  contained,  and  encouraging 
them  to  live  according  to  their  noblest  ideals 
of  how  true  men  and  women  should  live.  So, 
you  see,  the  fairy's  Birthday  Gift  was  indeed 
a  great,  and  wonderful  Gift. 


THE  FAIR  WHITE  CITY; 

OR, 

A  STORY  OF  THE  PAST,  PRESENT 
AND  FUTURE. 

Many  of  you  will  remember  the  story  I  told 
you  of  Little  Blessed-Eyes  and  the  wonderful 
power  his  fairy  god-mother  gave  him  of  seeing 
instantly  the  best  that  was  in  everybody. 
To-day  1  want  to  tell  you  of  some  of  the 
remarkable  things  which  happened  after 
Blessed-Eyes  had  become  chief  counsellor  to 
the  King,  for,  of  course,  the  King  was  glad  to 
keep  near  him  a  man  with  such  power  as  that. 

Long  years  have  passed  since  our  last  story 
and  Blessed-Eyes  had  been  the  King's  Chief 
Counsellor  for  ten  years,  or  more,  and  the 
capital  had  become  the  most  renowned  city  on 
earth.  One  day  Blessed-Eyes  was  walking 
through  its  streets  when  he  heard  a  deep  sigh 
as  of  some  one  in  great  trouble.  He  turned, 
and  looking  around  saw  a  poor  laboring  man 
with  his  head  bent  forward  upon  his  hands,  as 
he  sat  on  the  doorstep  of  a  house  near  by. 
6  (65) 


66  IN  STORY-LAND. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  said  Blessed-Eyes 
gently,  stopping  in  front  of  the  man. 

"  Ah,"  replied  the  poor  man,  "lean  find 
nothing  to  do  in  this  great  city.  All  the 
places  in  the  shops  and  stores  are  already 
taken  and  my  children  are  starving  for  want 
of  bread." 

"  What  large,  strong  arms  you  have  I  "  said 
Blessed-Eyes. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  man,  "  but  of  what  use 
are  they  to  me.  One  can  measure  tape  or 
weigh  sugar  with  much  smaller  arms  than 
mine." 

"Why  do  you  not  seek  the  King?"  con- 
tinued Blessed-Eyes,  "and  offer  to  go  to 
yonder  mountain  range  and  quarry  the  beauti- 
ful white  marble  which  lies  there.  I  have 
heard  that  it  is  the  most  beautiful  marble  in 
the  whole  world.  Those  great  strong  arms  of 
yours  could  do  a  grand  work  in  the  King's 
quarry." 

The  man's  face  softened  at  once.  "  I  will 
go,"  he  said. 

The  King  gladly  accepted  the  strong  man's 
offer  and  the  next  day  started  him  out  with 
crow-bars  and  drills  to  the  mountain  district,, 
and  soon  there  came  a  wagon  load  of  beautiful 
white  marble,  and  then  another  and  then  an- 


THE  FAIR   WHITE  CITY.  67 

other.  The  King  was  so  pleased  with  the 
marble  that  he  sent  ten  men  to  help  the  strong 
man  in  his  work,  and  then  twenty  and  then  a 
hundred,  until  the  mountain  tops  rang  with 
the  sturdy  blows  of  the  quarrymen.  And  soon 
a  vast  pile  of  the  glistening,  white  marble  had 
been  collected  in  the  King's  stoneyard,  and 
the  poor  and  discouraged  man  with  the  strong 
arms  had  become  the  most  famous  stonemason 
in  the  world. 

Not  long  after  this,  Blessed-Eyes  and  the 
King  walked  one  fine  evening  to  look  at  the 
shining  white  marble  and  to  plan  how  best  it 
could  be  used  to  make  beautiful  the  city.  As 
they  reached  the  tall  white  pile,  they  noticed  a 
man  standing  beside  it,  evidently  measuring  it 
carefully  with  his  eye. 

"  It  is  a  fine  sight/'  said  Blessed-Eyes,  "is 
it  not?" 

The  man  turned  and  looked  sadly  at  him  for 
a  moment,  then  taking  a  tablet  from  his  pocket 
he  wrote  on  it:  "  I  cannot  hear  a  word  that 
you  say;  I  am  totally  deaf,  and  therefore  lam 
the  loneliest  man  in  all  the  King's  realm." 

Blessed-Eyes'  heart  was  stirred  with  pity  for 
the  lonely  man.  He  took  the  pencil  and  wrote 
on  the  tablet:  "You  evidently  have  a  very 
correct  eye  for  measurements." 


68  IN"  STORY-LAND. 

"  Yes,'*  replied  the  man,  as  soon  as  he  had 
read  these  words,  "  I  can  tell  the  difference  of 
a  hair's  breath  in  the  height  of  any  two  lines, 
and  I  think  I  could  estimate  the  weight  of  any 
one  of  these  great  stones  within  half  an  ounce." 

At  this  Blessed-Eyes  seized  the  tablet  and 
wrote  rapidly  on  it  these  words:  "  You  have 
such  good  eyes  for  measurements  and  weights 
you  would  surely  be  a  good  builder.  This  is 
the  King.  Why  do  you  not  offer  to  make  for 
him  some  beautiful  buildings  out  of  this  white 
marble?" 

The  lonely  man's  face  brightened;  he  turned 
to  the  King.  A  short  consultation  showed  the 
King  that  he  had  found  a  treasure,  and  the 
new  architect  was  set  to  work  at  once  draw- 
ing plans  for  several  buildings  which  were  to 
surround  a  charming  lake  that  was  in  the 
King's  park. 

In  a  few  months  the  quiet  park  became  the 
scene  of  busy  activity.  Scores  of  men  were 
laying  foundations ;  others  were  hewing  the 
white  marble  into  shapely  blocks ;  others  were 
polishing  portions  of  it  into  tall  and  shining 
white  pillars,  and  others  still,  were  carving 
beautiful  capitals  for  the  same.  All  were 
working  under  the  direction  of  the  new  archi- 
tect whose  wonderful  designs  had  so  inspired 


THE  FAIR   WHITE  CITY.  69 

the  King  that  he  decided  to  build  the  grandest 
and  handsomest  group  of  buildings  which  the 
nations  of  the  earth  hud  ever  seen.  When  all 
was  done  and  the  buildings  stood  in  their  full 
majestic  beauty  with  their  long  colonnades 
shining  in  the  sunlight  and  their  graceful 
towers  rising  airily  in  the  upper  air  and  their 
beautiful  gilded  domes  crowning  all,  the  scene 
resembled  fairyland.  The  people  could  hardly 
believe  their  eyes  as  they  wandered  through 
the  place.  They  came  from  the  farthest  ends 
of  the  earth  to  enjoy  its  beauty,  for  the  sad 
and  lonely  deaf  man  had  now  become  the  most 
famous  architect  in  the  whole  world,  and  was 
surrounded  by  friends  and  admirers,  who 
rejoiced  in  his  power  to  create  such  bewilder- 
ing scenes  of  beauty.  His  face  lost  its  sad 
expression  and  each  time  that  he  met  Blessed- 
Eyes  there  came  a  joyful  smile  upon  it. 

Handsome  and  attractive  as  were  the  out- 
sides  of  these  buildings,  within  they  were 
cold  and  bare,  and  Blessed-Eyes  and  the  King 
often  consulted  as  to  how  the  inner  walls 
might  be  made  as  beautiful  as  were  the  outer 
ones.  It  chanced  one  day  that  as  Blessed- 
Eyes  was  walking  alone  through  the  "  Court  of 
Honor,"  (this  was  the  name  now  given  to 
that  part  of  the  lake  which  was  surrounded  by 


70  J2V  STORY-LAND. 

the  white  marble  buildings),  he  observed  a 
group  of  boys  and  young  men,  evidently  hav- 
ing great  sport  with  some  object  in  their  midst. 
When  he  came  near  he  saw  it  was  an  embar- 
rassed and  harassed  looking  stranger  whom 
they  were  tormenting. 

With  a  feeling  of  indignation  he  pressed 
forward  into  their  midst. 

"What  is  your  difficulty,  sir?"  he  said 
quietly  and  respectfully. 

The  stranger  blushed  and  faltered,  then  he 
stammeringly  said:  — 

*•  I-I-I  ca-ca-canno-no-not  sp-speak  your 
language  wi-wi-withou-ou-out  st— st-stammer- 
ing." 

At  this  the  men  roared  with  laughter.  Again 
Blessed-Eyes  turned  an  angry  look  upon 
them,  and  quietly  slipping  his  arm  through  the 
stranger's  he  said  :  "  Will  you  walk  with  me? 
I  have  something  to  say  to  you."  And  the 
two  walked  off  together,  leaving  the  crowd 
rather  abashed  and  ashamed  of  its  rudeness. 
When  they  had  gone  some  distance  in  silence, 
Blessed-Eyes  said:  "  As  soon  as  I  saw  you  I 
noticed  you  had  strong,  shapely  and  artistic 
hands.  Surely  you  must  be  able  to  draw  and 
paint."  The  stranger's  face  lighted  up  with 
a  radiant  smile. 


THE  FAIR   WHITE  CITY.  71 

"  How  very  odd,"  he  stammered,  "  th-th- 
that  you  should  see  I  was  an  artist,  I  had 
hoped  to  get  work  here." 

Blessed-Eyes  took  him  at  once  to  the  King, 
and  soon  the  three  were  deep  in  plans  for 
decorating  and  making  beautiful  the  inner 
walls  of  the  wonderful  white  buildings  which 
surrounded  the  "  Court  of  Honor."  It 
was  not  long  before  the  stammering  stranger 
had  proved  that  he  was  not  only  an  artist 
but  a  master  artist.  Lesser  artists  and 
new  pupils  flocked  to  him  from  all  parts 
of  the  land  and  soon  the  interior  of  the 
handsome  buildings  presented  scenes  as  busy 
as  the  outside  had  before  shown.  In  less  than 
a  year  the  walls  of  all  the  buildings  had  been 
decorated  in  soft,  beautiful  colors,  and  on 
many  of  them  were  wonderful  pictures  of  far- 
away landscapes;  of  beautiful  sunset  clouds; 
of  fair,  floating  angel  forms,  and,  best  of  all, 
true  and  lifelike  portraits  of  the  noblest  men 
and  women  of  the  nation.  Long  before  this 
was  accomplished  the  stammering  stranger  had 
become  recognized  as  the  greatest  artist  of 
the  age. 

The  next  question  which  arose  in  the  mind 
of  the  King  and  his  ever  faithful  counsellor, 
Blessed-Eyes,  was  as  to  the  best  way  to  use 


72  IN  STORY-LAND. 

the  now  truly  magnificent  buildings,  so  that  all 
the  people  might  enjoy  them.  While  still  full 
of  these  thoughts,  Blessed-Eyes  one  day 
noticed  a  man  wearily  pacing  up  and  down 
the  court  with  bowed  head,  and  hands  clasped 
behind  his  body.  On  coming  nearer  Blessed- 
Eyes  saw  that  he  was  blind.  At  the  sound  of 
his  approaching  footsteps  the  man  stopped  and 
said : — 

"Ah!  that  is  the  step  of  Blessed-Eyes  I 
Much  as  he  has  been  able  to  help  his  fellow 
men,  there  is  nothing  that  he  can  do  for  me  I  " 

"  Indeed, "  said  Blessed-Eyes,  cheerily,  "  I 
am  not  so  sure  of  that.  If  you  can  tell  a  man 
by  his  step  you  must  certainly  have  very  good 
hearing." 

o 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  man,  "  I  can  hear  a  leaf 
fall  to  the  ground  a  block  away." 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Blessed-Eyes  gladly, 
"  You  are  just  the  man  for  whom  I  have  been 
looking.  Surely  a  man  whose  hearing  is  so 
acute  must  be  a  good  musician." 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  said  the  man  impatiently,  "  I 
am  the  finest  conductor  of  an  orchestra  in  the 
whole  world,  but  that  avails  me  but  little  in 
these  days.  Nobody  cares  for  good  music 
now  I  "  With  these  words  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  was  about  to  pass  on. 


THE  FAIR   WHITE   CITY.  73 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  King,"  cried 
Blessed-Eyes,  "  I  think  he  has  need  of  you." 

After  a  long  talk  with  the  King,  and  some 
experiments  by  which  they  tested  the  man's 
fine  sense  of  hearing,  the  King  felt  quite  sure 
that  he  was  exactly  the  man  needed  as  leader 
for  the  great  orchestra  which  he  generously 
supported  that  the  people  might  learn  to  love 
good  music,  so  he  was  at  once  put  in  charge 
of  the  same.  The  new  musician  proved  to  be 
such  a  wonderful  leader  that  no  man  in  the 
whole  orchestra  dared  play  a  false  note,  and 
soon  their  music  under  this  remarkable 
director,  was  famed  throughout  the  land,  until 
thousands  upon  thousands  came  to  hear  the 
afternoon  concerts  which  were  given  each  day 
in  the  largest  of  the  beautiful,  white  marble 
buildings. 

One  bright,  spring  morning  Blessed-Eyes 
started  out  to  enjoy  the  sunshine  and  the  per- 
fume of  the  flowers  and  the  glad  song  of  the 
birds.  "  Ah,"  thought  he,  as  he  walked 
along,  drinking  in  great  draughts  of  the  fine, 
fresh  air,  "  no  human  being  can  possibly  be 
sad  on  such  a  morning  as  this."  But  while  he 
was  yet  speaking,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  tear- 
stained  face  of  a  woman.  As  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  Blessed- Eyes  to  pass  any  one  who  was 


74  IN  STORY-LAND. 

in  trouble,  he  stopped  and  said  gently,  "  Dear 
Madam,  is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you? " 

"  Alas,  alas!  "  said  the  poor  woman, 
"What  can  you,  or  anyone  else,  do  for  a 
broken-hearted  mother  whose  four  little  chil- 
dren have  been  taken  by  death  from  her  arms. 
Unless  I  have  children  to  love,  life  has  no 
brightness  for  me." 

"Surely,"  said  Blessed-Eyes  softly  and 
compassionately,  "  there  are  yet  many  children 
who  need  your  love.  Will  you  not  come  with 
me  to  the  palace  of  the  King?  " 

The  woman  looked  puzzled  and  perplexed, 
but  so  sweet  and  gentle  had  been  the  tone  of 
his  voice  that  she  instinctively  followed  him. 
I  do  not  know  just  what  happened  in  the  con- 
sultation with  the  King,  but  this  I  do  know,  that 
only  a  few  days  elapsed  before  the  "  Court  of 
Honor  "  rang  each  day  with  the  voices  of 
happy  children  as  they  followed  the  no  longer 
sad-faced  woman  around  to  the  concert  hall  to 
hear  the  sweet  music,  or  off  to  the  buildings 
whose  walls  were  covered  with  beautiful  pic- 
tures, or  back  again  to  their  own  handsome 
building,  set  apart  for  their  particular  use  by 
the  King. 

Here  the  told  them  stories  and  taught  them 
songs  and  led  them  in  charming  games  and 


THE  FAIR   WHITE   CITY.  75 

plays,  and  trained  their  little  hands  into  skill- 
ful work  until  throughout  the  kingdom  there 
was  no  happier  band  of  children  than  those  who 
had  once  been  the  waifs  of  the  city,  wandering 
through  its  streets.  So  full  of  motherly  love 
was  the  woman 's  work  with  her  new  children 
that  other  beautiful  and  noblewomen  came, in 
time,  and  joined  her  in  it,  until  at  last  there 
was  no  child  in  the  whole  city  who  had  not 
learned  how  to  use  his  hands  skillfully,  how 
to  love  sweet  music,  how  to  enjoy  beautiful 
pictures  and  how  to  be  kind  and  thoughtful 
towards  others. 

In  time  many  of  these  children  grew  into 
manhood  and  womanhood  and  became  musi- 
cians, artists,  authors,  physicians,  clergymen, 
and  wonderfully  skilled  workmen  of  all  sorts. 
Many  of  the  women  married  and  became  loving 
and  wise  mothers  because  of  the  training  they 
had  received  from  the  pale-faced,  childless 
woman  in  the  King's  "  Court  of  Honor." 

At  last  the  good  King  died,  and  the  question 
arose,  "  Who  shall  be  our  next  King."  The 
counsellors  of  the  nation  met  together  to  de- 
cide the  matter.  They  sent  to  the  stonema- 
sons far  away  in  the  back  country  and  the 
great  master-mason  cried,  "Let  Blessed-Eyes 
be  our  King !  Did  he  not  teach  me  how  to 


76  JJV  STORY-LAND. 

use  my  strong  arms?  Has  he  not  furnished 
bread  for  us  and  our  families?"  And  the 
hundreds  of  stone-cutters  and  miners  and  dig- 
gers round  about  shouted  aloud,  "  Long  live 
King  Blessed-Eyes!" 

Then  they  sent  to  the  various  villages  and 
towns  of  the  Kingdom  and  the  architects  said 
44  Let  Blessed-Eyes  be  King!  Has  he  not 
created  the  great  Court  of  Honor  from  which 
we  have  all  learned  to  make  beautiful  what- 
ever we  build!'  And  the  carpenters  and 
joiners  and  plasterers  and  painters  all  cried 
out,  "  Long  live  King  Blessed-Eyes  !  " 

Then  they  sent  to  the  mills  and  the  factories 
of  the  great  cities  and  the  masterworkmen  and 
designers  answered  and  said,  "  Why  not  make 
Blessed-Eyes  our  King?  It  was  he  who  first 
introduced  Art  into  our  land  and  showed  us 
how  to  make  as  beautiful  as  pictures  our 
carpets  and  curtains  and  walls.  Have  not 
these  things  made  our  merchandise  sought  for 
all  over  the  world."  Then  the  spinners  and 
weavers  and  dyers  all  shouted  aloud,  "  Long 
live  King  Blessed-Eyes  !  " 

Then  they  sent  to  all  the  colleges  and  schools 
in  the  land  and  the  grave  presidents  and  super- 
intendents said,  "  We  know  of  no  better  man 
than  Blessed- Eyes.  He  first  taught  us  that  a 


THE  FAIR    WHITE   CITY.  77 

love  of  the  beautiful  should  be  part  of  each 
child's  education. "  Then  the  youths  and  the 
maidens,  the  boys  and  the  girls,  and  even  the 
little  children  shouted  until  they  were  hoarse, 
"  Long  live  King  Blessed-Eyes!  " 

Then  the  whole  nation  seemed  to  cry  out, 
"  Blessed-Eyes,  Blessed- Eyes,  Long  live  King 
Blessed-Eyes  I "  There  is  none  among  us 
whom  he  has  not  helped.  When  the  news  was 
brought  to  Blessed-Eyes  that  all  the  people 
desired  him  to  rule  over  them,  he  smiled 
gently  and  said,  '«  I  had  hoped  to  rest  now, 
but  if  I  can  serve  my  country  I  must  do  it." 
So  he  was  made  King  and  the  nation  became 
wise  and  great  and  powerful  under  his  reign. 
For  the  little  children  grew  up  learning  to  love 
the  beautiful  and  to  see  it  everywhere  until  at 
last  there  was  a  whole  nation  of  blessed-eyes, 
and  every  city  in  the  land  became  as  beautiful 
as  was  the  White  City  by  the  Lake. 


THE    LOVING    CUP    WHICH     WAS 
MADE  OF  IRON. 

Upon  the  edge  of  a  great  forest  a  woodcut- 
ter had  built  him  a  cottage,  and  soon  he 
brought  a  fair  young  bride  to  live  in  it.  She 
was  a  neat,  trim,  little  body,  who  wasted  noth- 
ing and  kept  everything  in  the  house  in  perfect 
order,  so  that  in  a  short  time  their  small  yard 
showed  her  care  also. 

One  day  some  cousins  came  from  town  to 
see  the  woodcutter,  and  his  wife.  They 
brought  with  them  their  dinner  in  a  large 
basket,  and  a  jolly  time  they  had  of  it, 
wandering  through  the  woods,  lying  on  the  soft 
green  grass,  and  gathering  the  wild  flowers. 
Finally,  hunger  drove  them  back  to  the  wood- 
cutter's house,  and  as  they  sat  on  the  porch 
eating  their  luncheon,  they  thoughtlessly  threw 
the  skins  of  their  oranges  and  the  banana  peel- 
ings on  the  grass  in  front  of  them.  The 
woodcutter's  wife  said  nothing,  but  she  felt 
sure  that  such  litter  and  dirt  on  the  fresh  green 
grass  would  grieve  the  wood-fairies  who  were 
trying  to  keep  the  forest  and  all  of  its  sur- 
(78) 


THE  LOVING  CUP.  79 

roundings  as  beautiful  as  possible.  Therefore 
when  the  guests  had  gone,  she  quietly  picked 
up  all  the  skins  and  scraps  of  paper  and  burned 
them. 

This  so  pleased  the  wood-fairies,  that  when 
her  first  boy  baby  came,  they  sent  him  a  loving- 
cup  of  gold.  Around  it  were  circles  of  dia- 
monds and  pearls  and  deep  red  rubies.  Of 
course,  the  young  mother  was  very  happy,  for 
she  knew  that  such  a  gift  meant  her  son  would 
some  day  possess  much  money.  So  she  set 
herself  to  work  to  make  her  yard  more  beauti- 
ful than  it  had  been  before,  by  planting  flower- 
seeds  in  a  border  by  the  fence.  "  If  my  son 
is  to  become  a  rich  man,"  said  she  to  herself, 
"  he  must  learn  to  love  what  is  beautiful,  that 
he  may  use  his  money  wisely."  She  did  not 
stop  when  she  had  made  her  own  yard  beauti- 
ful, but  soon  began  scattering  more  flower-seed 
down  by  the  spring  that  the  wood-fairies 
might  have  flowers  to  enjoy  while  they  came 
to  drink.  Before  long  her  kind  heart  led 
her  to  plant  other  flowers  by  the  dusty  road- 
side and  down  in  the  lonely  valley,  in  order 
that  weary  travelers,  as  they  journeyed  along, 
might  see  the  bright  blossoms  and  smell  the 
sweet  perfume. 

This   pleased  the   wood-fairies  even    more 


80  IN  STORY-LAND. 

than  her  thoughtful  tidiness  had  done,  so, 
when  her  second  boy  baby  came,  they  sent 
him  a  loving-cup  of  pure  silver.  Around  the 
outside  of  it  were  carved  pictures  of  youths 
and  maidens  dancing  in  a  circle  on  the  green 
grass.  This  gift  made  the  mother  even  hap- 
pier than  the  first  had  done,  for  she  read  in 
the  carving  on  the  cup  that  her  boy  would  love 
the  open  air  and  would  grow  up  strong  and 
healthy  and  her  heart  grew  tender  to  all  things 
about  her. 

She  had  noticed  that  some  of  the  ugliest  and 
most  neglected  weeds  often  bore  delicate 
flowers,  which,  however,  soon  faded  for  lack 
of  care.  "  I  will  see,"  said  she,  "  if  I  cannot 
make  the  weeds  grow  into  flowers  by  watering 
them  and  pruning  them  and  lovingly  caring 
for  them.  In  this  way  I  can  help  to  make  the 
whole  forest  wholesome,  and  thus  show  the 
wood-fairies  that  I  am  grateful  to  them  for 
their  gift  of  health  to  my  second  son." 

She  began  by  caring  for  the  weeds  which 
stood  nearest  her  own  home,  and  was  rewarded 
by  seeing  them  slowly  change  into  shapely 
plants  and  their  blossoms  become  strong  and 
beautiful.  Then  her  care  extended  to  the 
weeds  along  the  wayside,  and  in  a  short 
time  there  was  not  a  hurtful  weed  to  be 


THE  LOVING  CUP.  81 

found  in  the  neighborhood.  All  had  been 
changed,  by  a  little  patient  cave,  into  strong, 
thrifty  shrubs  and  plants,  each  blooming 
according  to  its  own  nature,  but  all  gladden- 
ing the  sight  by  their  bright  flowers  and 
healthy  green  leaves. 

This  changing  of  weeds  into  flowers  so  sur- 
prised and  delighted  the  wood-fairies  who  had 
never  heard  of  such  a  thing,  that  when  her 
third  boy-baby  came,  they  consulted  among 
themselves  and  decided  to  send  him  the  best 
gift  they  had  to  bestow.  Accordingly  they 
sent  to  the  new  baby  a  loving-cup  made  of 
strong,  black  iron,  and  with  it,  three  large 
earthen  jars.  One  was  filled  with  the  sweetest 
golden  nectar  ever  tasted  by  mortal  lips, 
another  contained  a  brown  vinegar  so  sour 
that  half  a  teaspoonfui  of  it  would  make  your 
face  wrinkle,  while  the  third  jar  held  a  black- 
ish-looking gall,  of  such  a  bitter  flavor  that 
one  drop  of  it  would  make  one  shrink  from 
ever  wanting  to  taste  it  again.  With  this 
strange  present  they  sent  word  that  if  the 
mother  loved  her  boy,  whom  by  the  way  she 
had  named  Philip,  she  would  mix  a  cupful  of 
the  sweet  nectar,  the  sour  vinegar  and  the  bit- 
ter gall,  using  half  as  much  vinegar  as  she 
did  nectar,  and  half  as  much  gall  as  vinegar, 

-4. 


82  IN  STORY-LAND. 

and  give  it  to  the  boy  to  drink  on  his  birth- 
day, each  year,  until  he  was  twenty-one  years 
old. 

The  mother  hesitated.  It  seemed  so  hard 
to  make  her  darling  child  taste  of  the  bitter 
gall  when  there  was  plenty  of  the  sweet  nectar 
to  last  until  he  was  grown,  but  she  knew  that 
the  wood-fairies  were  wise.  Were  they  not 
trying  to  make  the  whole  earth  beautiful? 
Surely  they  would  not  require  so  hard  a  thing 
of  her  unless  it  was  for  little  Philip's  welfare. 

Therefore,  each  succeeding  birthday  she 
mixed  the  fairies'  drink  and  poured  it  into  the 
iron  cup  and  gave  it  to  the  child.  Sometimes 
he  cried  and  sometimes  he  fretted,  but  she 
held  the  cup  firmly  to  his  lips  until  the  last 
drop  was  drained,  and  then  she  would  kiss 
him  and  tell  him  that  he  was  her  dear,  brave 
boy,  and  would  some  day  thank  her  for  mak- 
ing him  drink  the  fairies'  potion.  He  soon 
found  that  if  he  drank  the  contents  of  the 
loving-cup  early  in  the  morning,  he  tasted 
nothing  but  the  sweet  nectar,  whereas  if  he 
put  it  off  until  noon,  he  could  not  taste  any- 
thing but  the  sour  vinegar,  and  when  he 
delayed  the  drinking  of  it  until  night,  it 
seemed  as  if  the  whole  contents  of  the  cup 
had  changed  to  gall,  and  he  would  be  days 


THE  LOVING-   CUP.  83 

and  days  getting  over  the  bitter  taste.  So 
being  a  sensible  boy,  he  learned  to  drink  it  as 
soon  as  it  was  mixed. 

Each  year  he  grew  more  loving  and  thought- 
ful of  others,  more  like  the  wood-fairies  in  his 
effort  to  make  the  world  around  him  beautiful. 
Little  by  little  he  gained  the  power  which  the 
wood-fairies  alone  can  give  —  the  wonderful 
power  of  knowing  just  what  is  going  on  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people  about  you,  even  when 
you  do  not  speak  to  them  or  they  to  you. 

If  he  chanced  to  meet  a  sad-faced  man  or 
woman  on  the  street,  his  beautiful  eyes  seemed 
to  say  more  tenderly  than  words  could  say,  "  I 
see  you  are  in  trouble  and  I  feel  so  sorry  for 
you."  If  he  passed  a  group  of  merry  makers, 
his  smile  was  so  bright  that  they  knew  it 
meant  "  What  a  lot  of  fun  you  are  having! 
I  am  so  glad  !  "  As  he  grew  older  his  hands 
became  almost  as  wonderful  as  his  eyes,  or 
his  smile.  If  he  found  a  little  child  crying 
over  a  broken  toy  he  would  stop  and  mend  it, 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  tears  would  be 
gone  and  the  little  one  would  go  off  laughing 
or  singing,  hugging  his  mended  toy. 

Sometimes  a  young  girl  would  come  to  him 
with  a  beautiful  picture  which  she  had  been, 
embroidering  on  a  screen,  but  which  had  been 


84  /AT  STOBY-LAND. 

spoiled  by  some  crooked,  careless  stitches, 
and  he  would  patiently  sit  down  beside  her 
and  would  point  out  to  her  just  where  the 
wrong  stitches  had  been  put  into  the  picture, 
and  would  help  her  take  them  out.  Then  he 
would  show  her  how  to  put  in  the  right  kind 
of  stitches  and  she  would  go  away  happy  and 
contented,  ready  to  work  day  by  day  on  the 
lovely  screen  with  which  she  was  someday  go- 
ing to  make  her  future  home  beautiful. 

Now  and  then  a  young  musician  would  find 
that  his  silver  flute  played  only  harsh  discords 
instead  of  sweet  melodies  and  he  would  grow 
discouraged  and  be  ready  to  throw  it  away, 
when  Philip  would  come  along  and  pick  up  the 
flute  quietly  and  examine  it  and  discover  that 
the  jarring  sounds  came  because  it  was  not  free 
from  the  dust  and  dirt  of  the  street.  Then  he 
would  tell  the  young  player  what  was  the  mat- 
ter  and  would  stay  with  him  until  he  had  made 
the  flute  as  clean  as  a  flute  should  be,  and  he 
was  usually  rewarded  by  some  fine  music  from 
the  grateful  musician.  Occasionally  he  would 
come  across  a  man  toiling  along  the  road  with 
a  pack  on  his  backy  so  heavy  that  he  was  bent 
nearly  double  by  it.  Then  Philip  would  stop 
him  and  plan  with  him  how  the  load  could  be 
divided  into  two  packs  so  that  he  might  carry 


THE  LOVING  CUP.  85 

one  under  each  arm,  and  thus  be  able  to  walk 
straight  and  erect  and  hold  his  head  up  as  a 
man  should.  Nobody  ever  dreamed  of  telling 
him  a  lie  !  «<  He  knows  just  how  we  feel" 
people  used  to  say,  and  somehow  the  sight  of 
his  strong,  manly  face  stirred  within  them  a 
desire  to  be  brave  and  noble,  and  true,  and  he 
was  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him. 

This  indeed  was  the  most  precious  gift  which 
the  wood- fairies  could  give. 


HANS  AND  THE  FO  UR  BIG  GIANTS. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  little  boy 
whose  name  was  Hans.  His  home  was  in  a 
village  where  the  tall  trees  shaded  the  green 
grass  that  grew  around  the  houses.  Hans 
loved  his  home  very  much.  He  loved  to  hear 
the  birds  sing  and  to  watch  them  fly  high  in  the 
air,  and  he  often  threw  crumbs  upon  the 
ground  for  them  to  eat.  He  loved  the  bright 
red  and  blue  and  yellow  flowers  which  grew  in 
the  garden  behind  the  house.  He  delighted  in 
the  sweet  odors  which  came  all  unseen  from 
their  very  hearts.  So  he  gladly  watered  them 
when  they  looked  thirsty.  His  mother  soon 
taught  him  how  to  place  strong  straight  sticks 
beside  the  weak  vines  so  that  they,  too,  could 
climb  up  and  get  the  sunlight.  Hans  loved 
the  dear  old  hens  and  their  downy  little  chick- 
ens that  were  not  afraid  to  peck  the  grain  out 
of  his  hand.  In  fact,  Hans  loved  everything 
and  everybody  about  him,  from  the  small 
naked  worms  which  crawled  about  among 
the  clods  of  earth,  up  to  the  strange  and 
(86) 


HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS.        87 

beautiful  stars  which  shone  so  high  above  his 
head. 

He  was  a  very  happy,  little  fellow,  always 
busy,  always  finding  something  to  do  for  some- 
body. 

By  and  by,  when  he  grew  to  be  a  tall, 
strong  lad,  he  used  to  go  with  his  father  to 
the  forest  to  chop  wood  and  thus  help  earn 
money  which  went  to  buy  food  and  clothes 
for  his  mother  and  his  three  younger  brothers, 
for  Hans'  father  was  poor  and  money  was 
scarce  in  his  family. 

After  a  time,  when  Hans  had  grown  so  tall 
that  you  and  I  would  call  him  a  young  man, 
his  father  said  to  him:  «  Hans,  my  boy,  it  is 
time  now  that  you  started  out  to  hunt  some 
work  for  yourself.  Your  next  younger  brother 
can  help  me  with  the  wood  chopping  and  the 
smaller  ones  can  help  the  mother  in  the  work 
about  the  house.  You  must  go  out  into  the 
world  and  learn  how  to  take  care  of  yourself, 
and  perhaps  some  day  you  may  have  to  take 
care  of  your  mother  and  me  when  we  grow 
too  old  to  work." 

So  Hans'  mother  packed  his  clothes  in  a 
little  bundle,  and,  as  she  kissed  him  good-bye, 
she  said :  "  Hans,  my  precious  son,  always  be 
brave  and  true,  and  the  good  God  will  take 


88  IN  STOUT-LAND. 

care  of  you."  Hans  then  bade  farewell  to 
his  father  and  his  younger  brothers  and 
started  on  his  journey. 

He  walked  a  long  way  until  by  and  by  he  came 
to  a  great  city,  where  the  houses  looked  dingy 
with  smoke  and  the  rattle  of  the  carts  and 
wagons  made  an  incessant  roar.  After  a  time 
he  found  some  work  in  the  shop  of  a  black- 
smith, and  although  the  work  was  grimy  and 
rather  hard  to  do  Hans  used  to  like  to  see  the 
sparks  fly  from  the  red  hot  iron  every  time  he 
struck  a  blow  with  his  heavy  hammer.  He 
was  very  proud  when  at  last  he  could  shape 
the  hard  iron  into  a  fine  horseshoe  almost  as 
well  as  the  smith  himself.  Hans  did  not  know 
it,  but  this  very  work  was  making  his  arms  grow 
big  and  strong  and  his  chest  broad  and  full. 

Every  day  Hans  used  to  see  a  beautiful 
princess  drive  past  the  blacksmith's  shop. 
She  was  the  most  beautiful  princess  in  the 
world,  and  although  her  blue  eyes  and  golden 
hair  were  admired  by  everyone,  she  was  chiefly 
beloved  because  of  her  sweet  smile.  Hans 
used  often  to  say  to  himself:  "  How  I  wish  I 
could  serve  this  lovely  young  princess."  At 
last  one  day  he  went  to  the  palace  gate  and 
asked  the  gatekeeper  if  there  was  not  some 
work  in  the  palace  which  he  could  do. 


HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS.        89 

"  What  can  you  do?"  asked  the  gate- 
keeper. 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  any  kind  of  work  which 
the  king  may  need  to  have  done,"  answered 
Hans. 

Then  the  gatekeeper  passed  him  on  to  the 
keeper  of  the  king's  palace. 

•'What  can  you  do? "again  asked  the 
keeper  of  the  king's  palace. 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  any  kind  of  work  which 
the  king  may  need  to  have  done,"  replied 
Hans. 

So  the  keeper  of  the  palace  told  the  king  that 
there  was  a  strong,  tall  young  man  without 
who  wanted  to  serve  him.  •'  Bring  him  to 
me,"  said  the  king.  When  Hans  came  into 
the  presence  of  the  mighty  king  the  monarch 
looked  at  him  very  hard  for  a  few  moments 
and  then  said:  "  What  can  you  do,  young 
man?"  And  again  Han? replied:  "  I  am  will- 
ing to  do  anything  that  you  may  need  to  have 
done.  I  would  like  to  serve  the  beautiful 
princess." 

"  You  would,  would  you?"  cried  the  king. 
"  Now  I  will  test  you.  In  the  bottom  of  the 
North  Sea  there  lies  a  string  of  enchanted 
pearls.  If  you  will  get  those  pearls  and  bring 
them  to  me  you  shall  serve  my  daughter,  the 


90  IN  STORY-LAND. 

princess,  and  in  time  I  may  make  you  governor 
over  one  of  my  provinces;  who  knows?  "  And 
the  king  laughed  to  himself. 

Hans  was  wild  with  delight  and,  turning, 
hastened  out  of  the  palace.  The  very  next 
day  he  started  on  his  journey  to  the  North 
Sea.  He  walked  and  walked  a  long  way 
until  he  was  very  tired.  At  length,  just 
ahead  of  him,  he  saw  a  big  giant  rushing 
along  in  the  strangest  fashion. 

"  Good  morning"  said  Hans,  as  he  caught 
up  with  the  giant.  "  What  a  very  large  giant 
you  are  ! ' ' 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  giant,  looking  down  at 
Hans,  "  I  have  need  to  be  both  large  and 
strong.  Where  are  you  going,  young  man?  " 

44 1  am  going,"  answered  Hans,  "  to  the 
North  Sea  to  try  to  get  a  string  of  enchanted 
pearls  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

"Ah!"  said  the  tall  giant,  «  it  will  take 
you  a  long  time  to  get  there.  Now  if  you 
could  walk  as  fast  as  I  can,  it  would  be  an 
easy  matter." 

"  How  fast  can  you  walk?  "  asked  Hans. 

"  I  can  walk  faster  than  a  greyhound  can 
run,"  said  the  giant,  "  and  when  I  run,  the 
swift  river  cannot  keep  pace  with  me." 

"Can     you,    indeed?"    exclaimed    Hans. 


HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS.        91 

"What  a  fine  fellow  you  are!  I  wish  you 
would  come  along  with  me.  After  I  find  the 
string  of  pearls  I  want  to  get  back  to  the 
king's  palace  as  soon  as  possible,  for  I  am  to 
serve  the  beautiful  princess/' 

"If  that's  the  case,"  said  the  giant,  «« I 
think  I  will  go  along  with  you." 

The  two  walked  along,  chatting  together, 
until  they  saw  what  Hans  thought  must  be  a 
huge  round  stone  lying  in  the  road.  When, 
however,  they  came  up  to  it,  he  saw  that  it 
was  another  big  giant  lying  asleep  by  the  road 
side.  The  hot  sun  was  pouring  down  upon 
his  face.  "  Stay  here,"  said  Hans,  "  until  I 
can  cut  a  branch  from  some  tree  to  shade  that 
poor  fellow's  face.  The  sun  is  so  hot  it  will 
soon  blister  him." 

At  these  words  the  tall  giant  laughed  aloud. 
"  Ho,  ho  !  "  he  cried,  "  don't  you  know  who 
that  is?  He  is  a  neighbor  of  mine.  He  has 
such  strong  eyes  that  he  can  see  a  fly  on  a  leaf 
of  a  tree  a  mile  away." 

The  loud  laugh  of  the  tall  giant  awoke  the 
sleeping  giant,  and  he  opened  his  great  eyes 
and  stared  at  Hans.  ••  What  are  you  doing, 
young  man?"  growled  he. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Hans.  "  I  was  merely 
sticking  these  branches  into  the  ground  so 


92  IX  STOKY-LAND. 

that  they  might  keep  the  sun  out  of  your 
eyes." 

"  Bah  I  "  cried  the  great  giant,  sitting  up, 
"  did  you  not  know  that  my  eyes  were  so 
strong  that  I  could  look  the  noonday  sun 
straight  in  the  face?  " 

"  Indeed !  Indeed!  "  said  Hans.  «  What 
a  wonderful  giant  you  must  be.  I  wish  you 
would  come  with  me.  I  may  need  your  strong 
eyes,  for  I  am  on  my  way  to  the  North  Sea  to 
search  for  an  enchanted  necklace  of  pearls 
which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

44  Oh  ho!"  said  the  giant,  "  if  that's  the 
case  I  think  I  will  go  with  you." 

So  Hans  and  the  two  big  giants  walked  on 
together.  They  had  not  gone  more  than 
three  or  four  miles  when  Hans  spied  another 
great  giant  sitting  under  a  tall  tree.  As  they 
came  up  to  him  the  wind  blew  his  hat  off  his 
head.  "  I  will  fetch  it  for  you,"  cried  Hans, 
as  he  ran  forward  after  the  hat ;  but  before  he 
could  get  to  the  spot  where  the  hat  lay,  the 
big  giant  reached  out  his  long  arm  and  himself 
picked  up  his  hat  and  put  it  again  on  his  head. 
At  this  all  three  of  the  huge  giants  laughed. 

"  Didn't  you  know  that  he  was  the  giant 
who  could  reach  500  yards?  "  asked  the  long- 
legged  giant. 


HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS.        93 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Hans,  clapping  his  hands 
with  delight.  "  You  are  just  the  giant  I  need. 
When  I  get  to  the  North  Sea  you  can  reach 
down  to  the  bottom  of  it  and  pick  up  the  en- 
chanted necklace  of  pearls.  Will  you  not 
come  and  help  me?  " 

The  new  giant  thought  for  a  minute  or  two 
and  then  said  :  "  Oh,  yes  ;  I  will  go  along  if  I 
can  be  of  any  use  to  you." 

So  Hans  and  the  three  big  giants  started  gay- 
ly  forward  on  their  journey  to  the  North  Sea. 
They  had  not  gone  far  before  Hans  saw  in  the 
distance  another  giant  quietly  leaningup  against 
a  very  large  rock.  He  seemed  so  deep  in 
thought  that  he  did  not  see  Hans  and  his  fel- 

o 

low  travelers  until  they  came  near  to  where  he 
stood.  Hans  noticed  that  both  of  this  giant's 
ears  were  stopped  with  cotton.  "  Have  you 
the  earache?  "  asked  Hans.  "  Perhaps  I  can 
do  something  to  ease  your  pain." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  giant,  "  I  merely  stuffed 
cotton  into  my  ears  to  shut  off  some  of  the 
sounds  about  me.  I  can  hear  so  well  that  I 
can  tell  what  men  are  saying  a  hundred  miles 
away  from  me." 

•'  What   a  valuable  giant  you  must  be  I  ' 
exclaimed  Hans.     "  Will  you  not  come   with 
me?     When  I  get  the  enchanted  necklace   of 


94  /2V  STORY-LAND. 

pearls  you  can  tell  me  whether  it  will  be  safe 
to  take  it  back  to  the  king's  palace." 

The  giant  being  very  good-natured,  said: 
*  *  You  think  you  will  need  me,  do  you  ?  Well, 
I'll  go  along." 

So  Hans  and  the  four  big  giants  walked 
until  they  came  to  the  North  Sea.  Then  they 
got  into  a  boat  and  rowed  out  to  the  deep 
water.  The  gaint  who  could  see  so  far  soon 
found  the  place  where  the  necklace  lay  on  the 
sand  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  Then  the  giant 
whose  arms  were  so  long  reached  down  and 
picked  up  the  necklace  and  laid  it  in  the  boat. 
Hans  and  the  giants  now  rowed  back  to  the 
shore. 

As  soon  as  they  had  landed,  the  giant  who 
could  hear  so  well  took  the  cotton  out  of  his 
right  ear  and  listened  to  what  was  being  said 
at  the  king's  palace.  He  heard  the  people  in 
the  palace  talking  of  a  grand  festival  which 
was  to  take  place  the  next  night  in  honor  of 
the  birthday  of  the  beautiful  princess.  He 
then  told  Hans  of  what  he  had  heard,  and  the 
giant  who  could  run  so  fast  stooped  down  and 
let  Hans  climb  up  and  seat  himself  on  his 
great  shoulders,  and  away  the  two  sped,  faster 
than  a  bird  could  fly.  They  reached  the 
palace  in  time  for  Hans  to  give  the  enchanted 


HANS  AND  THE  FOUR  BIG  GIANTS.         95 

necklace  of  pearls  to  the  king,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  seat  his  beautiful  daughter  upon  a 
throne  beside  his  own. 

The  king  was  so  pleased  to  get  the  necklace 
that  he  at  once  gave  Hans  the  office  of  serving 
the  beautiful  princess.  Hans  served  her  so 
faithfully  that  she  learned  to  love  him  dearly, 
and  in  time  they  were  married.  When  the  old 
king  died  Hans  was  made  king  and  the  beau- 
tiful princess  was  a  queen.  Hans,  you  may  be 
sure,  took  good  care  of  his  old  father  and 
mother  and  both  he  and  his  queen  did  every- 
thing they  could  to  make  all  the  people  in 
their  kingdom  industrious  and  happy. 

Hans  persuaded  his  four  friends,  the  giants, 
to  come  and  live  in  his  kingdom,  and  through 
them  it  became  the  richest  and  most  prosper- 
ous country  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  so 
that  travelers  came  from  all  over  the  world  to 
visit  it. 


STORY  OF  THE  8  MALL  GEE  EN 
CATERPILLAR  AND  THE  BEAU- 
TIFUL WHITE  BUTTERFLY. 

[ADAPTED.] 

In  a  kitchen  garden  at  the  rear  of  an  old, 
brick  house  in  a  country  town,  stood  long 
rows  of  stately  corn,  whose  shining  green 
blades  glistened  in  the  sun  and  rustled  if  a 
passing  breeze  spoke  to  them.  Near  at  hand 
were  some  thickly-leaved  currant  bushes  which 
looked  as  if  they  had  been  so  busy  bearing 
bunches  of  juicy,  red  currants  that  they  had 
found  no  time  to  grow  tall  like  their  neigh- 
bors, the  com. 

Just  across  the  garden-path  was  a  fine  bed 
of  feathery  asparagus,  separated  from  the  rest 
of  the  garden  by  a  low  wooden  border  about 
two  inches  high.  I  do  not  know  as  to  whether 
or  not  it  was  this  exclusive  life  they  lived  that 
made  them  so  lacking  in  strength,  but  they 
were  swayed  by  the  slightest  breath  of  air, 
now  this  way  and  now  that.  In  the  same  gar- 
den were  many  other  vegetables,  and  towering 
(96) 


THE  CATERPILLAR  AND  BUTTERFLY.       97 

far  above  them  all  were  some  giant  plum 
trees.  At  least  they  seemed  like  giants  to  the 
potato  vine  and  tomato  plants  near  by,  both 
of  whom  were  of  a  creeping  nature  and  had  a 
great  admiration  for  anybody,  or  anything, 
that  was  higher  than  themselves.  The  young 
potato  vines  used  to  look  up  from  the  top  of 
their  hills  and  wonder  if  they  would  ever  get 
as  near  to  the  sky  as  the  branches  of  the  plum 
trees  seemed  to  be.  Silly  things  I  They  did 
not  know  that  their  only  value  lay  in  their 
keeping  close  to  the  ground  and  bearing  as 
many  fine,  smooth-skinned  potatoes  as  possi- 
ble ;  that  is,  the  younger  vines  did  not  know 
this  important  fact. 

Our  story,  however,  is  not  about  the  potato 
vines,  but  of  something  very  wonderful  which 
took  place  upon  the  outside  leaf  of  a  round, 
green  cabbage-head  which  stood  along  with  the 
other  cabbage-heads  in  one  corner  of  the 
garden.  I  don't  believe  you  would  have 
understood  much  of  what  was  going  on  if 
you  had  been  there,  any  more  than  did  the 
happy-faced,  little,  black-eyed  woman  who 
owned  the  garden.  She  thought  she  loved 
her  garden,  every  tree,  and  shrub,  and  herb 
that  grew  in  it;  still  she  spent  a  great  deal 
more  time  looking  at  the  swift-flowing  river 
7 


98  Itf  8 TOBY-LAND. 

and  the  stretch  of  hills  beyond  than  she  did 
at  her  cabbage-heads.  Her  neighbors  said 
she  was  very  far-sighted  and  called  her  clever, 
but  the  ants  and  beetles  which  lived  in  the 
garden  knew  that  she  was  dull,  because  she 
spent  hours  each  day  poring  over  stupid 
books,  while  the  most  wonderful  things  were 
happening  all  around  her,  under  her  very  nose, 
as  it  were,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  perhaps, 
under  her  very  feet  —  things  far  more  interest- 
ing than  her  books  could  possibly  have  been. 
Among  these  wonderful  things  of  which 
her  garden  could  have  told  her  was  the  life- 
story  of  a  little  green  caterpillar  whose  home 
was  on  the  outside  leaf  of  a  large  green  cab- 
bage-head. He  was  not  an  inch  long  and  not 
much  bigger  around  than  a  good-sized  broom 
straw,  yet  he  was  an  honest  little  fellow  in  his 
way,  and  spent  most  of  his  time  crawling  about 
on  his  cabbage-leaf  and  nibbling  holes  in  it, 
which  you  know,  is  about  all  a  caterpillar  can 
be  expected  to  do.  The  great,  beautiful  sun, 
high  up  in  the  sky,  sent  his  bright  rays  of  light 
down  to  warm  the  little  caterpillar  just  as 
regularly  and  with  seemingly  jnst  as  much 
love  as  he  sent  them  to  make  the  thousand 
wavelets  of  the  swift-flowing  river  sparkle  and 
gleam  like  diamonds,  or  as  he  sent  them  down 


THE  CATERPILLAR  AND  BUTTERFLY.        99 

to  rest  in  calm,  still  sunshine  on  the  quiet  hill- 
tops beyond. 

The  little  green  caterpillar's  life  was  a  very 
narrow  one.  He  had  never  been  away  from 
his  cabbage  leaf,  in  tact  he  did  not  know  that 
there  was  anything  else  in  the  world  except 
cabbage  leaves.  He  might  have  learned  some- 
thing of  the  beautiful  silvery  moon,  or  the 
shining  stars,  or  of  the  glorious  sun  itself,  if 
he  had  ever  looked  up,  but  he  never  did, 
therefore  the  whole  world  was  a  big  cabbage- 
leaf  to  him,  and  all  of  his  life  consisted  in 
nibbling  as  much  cabbage-leaf  as  possible. 

So  you  can  easily  imagine  his  astonishment 
when  one  day  a  dainty,  white  butterfly  settled 
down  beside  him  and  began  laying  small  green 
eggs.  The  little  caterpillar  had  never  before 
seen  anything  half  so  beautiful  as  were  the 
wings  of  the  dainty,  white  butterfly,  and  when 
she  had  finished  laying  her  eggs  and  flew  off, 
he  for  the  first  time  in  his  whole  life,  lifted  his 
head  toward  the  blue  sky  that  he  might  watch 
the  quick  motion  of  her  wings.  She  was 
soon  beyond  the  tallest  leaves  of  the  tomato 
plants,  above  the  feathery  tips  of  the  fine 
asparagus,  even  higher  than  the  plum  trees. 
He  watched  her  until  she  became  a  mere  speck 
in  the  air  and  at  last  vanished  from  his  sight. 


100  IN  STORY-LAND. 

He  then  sighed  and  turned  again  to  his  cabbage 
leaf.  As  he  did  so  his  eyes  rested  on  the 
twenty  small  green  eggs  which  were  no  larger 
than  pin  heads. 

"  Did  she  leave  these  for  me  to  care  for?  " 
said  he  to  himself.  Then  came  the  perplexing 
question  —  how  could  he,  a  crawling  cater- 
pillar, take  care  of  baby  butterflies.  He 
could  not  teach  them  anything  except  to  crawl 
and  nibble  cabbage  leaves.  If  they  were  like 
their  beautiful  mother,  would  they  not  soon  fly 
far  beyond  his  reach?  This  last  thought 
troubled  him  a  great  deal,  still  he  watched 
over  them  tenderly  until  they  should  hatch. 
He  could  at  least  tell  them  of  how  beautiful 
their  mother  had  been  and  could  show  them 
where  to  fly  that  they  might  find  her. 

He  often  pictured  to  himself  how  they  would 
look,  twenty  dainty  little  butterflies  flutter- 
ing about  him  on  his  cabbage  leaf  for  a  time, 
and  then  flying  off  to  the  blue  sky,  for  aught 
he  knew,  to  visit  the  stars  with  their  mother. 
He  loved  the  great  sun  very  dearly  now,  be- 
cause it  sent  its  rays  down  to  warm  the  tiny 
eggs. 

One  day  he  awoke  from  his  afternoon  nap 
just  in  time  to  see  a  most  remarkable  sight ! 
What  do  you  think  was  happening?  One 


THE  CATERPILLAR  AND  BUTTERFLY.     101 

after  another  of  the  small  green  eggs  were 
breaking  open,  and  out  were  crawling  —  what 
do  you  suppose!  Little  white  butterflies? 
No,  nothing  of  the  kind  —  Little  green  cater- 
pillars were  creeping  out  of  each  shell.  Their 
foster-father,  as  he  had  learned  to  call  himself, 
could  hardly  believe  his  own  eyes.  Yet  there 
they  were,  wriggling  and  squirming,  very 
much  like  the  young  angleworms  in  the  ground 
below. 

"Well,  well,  well!"  said  he  to  himself, 
"  who  would  ever  dream  that  the  children  of 
that  beautiful  creature  would  be  mere  cater- 
pillars?" Strange  as  it  seemed  to  him,  there 
was  no  denying  the  fact  and  his  duty  was 
to  teach  them  how  to  crawl  about  and  how  to 
nibble  cabbage  leaves.  "  Poor  things,"  he 
used  to  say  as  he  moved  among  them,  "you 
will  never  know  the  world  of  beauty  in  which 
your  mother  lived,  you  will  never  be  able  to 
soar  aloft  in  the  free  air,  your  lives  must  be 
spent  in  creeping  about  on  a  cabbage  leaf  and 
filling  yourselves  full  of  it  each  day.  Poor 
things!  Poor  things!  " 

The  young  caterpillars  soon  became  so 
expert  that  they  no  longer  needed  his  care. 
Feeling  very  tired  and  sleepy,  he  one  day 
decided  to  make  for  himself  a  bed,  or  bag 


102  IN  STORY-LAND. 

and  go  to  sleep,  not  caring  much  whether  or 
not  he  ever  awoke.  He  was  soon  softly 
wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  the  curious  cov- 
ering he  had  made,  and  then  came  a  long,  long 
sleep  of  three  weeks  or  more.  When  at  last 
he  awakened,  he  began  to  work  his  head  out  of 
his  covering.  Soon  his  whole  body  was  free 
and  he  began  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  and  feel 
the  warm  sunshine.  He  was  sure  that  some- 
thing had  happened  to  him  though  he  could 
not  tell  what.  He  turned  his  head  this  way 
and  that,  and  at  last  caught  sight  of  his  own 
sides.  What  do  you  think  he  saw?  Wings! 
Beautiful  white  wings !  And  his  body  was 
white,  too  !  The  long  sleep  had  changed  him 
into  a  butterfly ! 

He  began  to  slowly  stretch  his  wings.  They 
were  so  new  he  could  hardly  believe  that  they 
were  part  of  himself.  The  more  he  stretched 
them  the  more  beautiful  they  became,  and  soon 
they  quivered  and  fluttered  as  gracefully  as 
did  other  butterfly  wings.  Just  at  this  mo- 
ment a  strong,  fresh  breeze  swept  over  the 
garden,  and  before  he  had  time  to  refuse,  the 
new  butterfly  was  lifted  off  the  cabbage  leaf 
and  was  dancing  through  the  air,  set- 
tling down  now  on  a  bright  flower,  and 
now  on  a  nodding  blade  of  grass,  then  up 


THE  CATERPILLAR  AND  BUTTERFLY.     103 

and  off  again.  He  rejoiced  gaily  in  his  free- 
dom for  a  time,  but  soon  came  the  longing  to 
try  his  wings  in  the  upper  sunshine. 

Before  attempting  the  unknown  journey, 
however,  he  flew  back  to  the  round,  green 
cabbage-head  on  which  he  had  lived  so  long. 
There  were  the  twenty,  small,  green  cater- 
pillars, still  creeping  slowly  about  and  filling 
themselves  with  cabbage-leaf.  This  was  all 
they  knew  how  to  do,  and  this  they  did  faith- 
fully. '«  Never  mind,  little  caterpillars, "  said 
the  new  butterfly  as  he  hovered  over  them, 
"  keep  on  at  your  work ;  the  cabbage  leaf 
gives  you  food,  and  the  crawling  makes  you 
strong.  By  and  by  you,  too,  shall  be  butter- 
flies and  go  forth  free  and  glad  into  God's 
great  upper  world." 

Having  said  this  in  so  low  a  tone  of  voice 
that  you  would  not  have  heard  him  had  you 
been  standing  close  by,  he  flew  far  away,  so 
far  that  neither  you  nor  I  could  have  followed 
him  with  our  eyes.  As  for  the  happy-faced, 
little,  black-eyed  woman,  she  did  not  even 
know  that  he  had  been  near  her,  for  her  eyes 
were  fastened  on  her  book,  as  usual.  But  the 
small,  green,  caterpillars  must  have  heard, 
for  they  went  on  crawling  and  nibbling  cab- 
bage-leaves quite  contentedly,  and  not  one  of 


104  IN  STORY-LAND. 

them  was  ever  heard  to  complain  of  having  to 
be  a  caterpillar,  though  occasionally  one  and 
then  another  of  them  would  lift  his  head,  and 
I  doubt  not  he  was  thinking  of  the  time  when 
he,  too,  should  become  a  beautiful  white 
butterfly. 


THE  DISCONTENTED  MILL   WIN- 
DOW. 

A  tall  flour  mill  once  stood  in  tho  midst  of 
a  busy  noisy  town.  Its  steep,  slanting  roof 
was  far  above  any  other  roof  in  the  place,  and 
its  many  windows  looked  out  over  the  chimney 
tops,  and  into  the  back  yards  and  saw  all  that 
was  going  on  in  them. 

Under  the  very  eaves  of  this  slanting  roof 
was  a  little  round  window.  Because  it  was  so 
high  above  the  other  windows,  from  it  you 
could  have  seen  not  only  all  that  was  being 
done  in  the  busy  city,  but  the  broad,  green 
fields  outside  of  the  town,  and,  on  a  clear  day, 
you  could  even  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
vast  ocean  which  lay  shining  so  mysteriously 
beyond  the  end  of  land.  It  was  because  this 
glimpse  of  the  great  ocean  could  be  seen 
through  the  little  round  window  that  the 
mill-owner  brought  many  visitors  up  to  the  top 
story  to  see  the  beautiful  vision.  Oftentimes 
the  guests  reached  the  window,  panting,  and 
out  of  breath  from  having  to  climb  so  many 
steps,  but  they  always  exclaimed,  «'  How  glad 

(105) 


106  I2V  STORY-LAND. 

I  am  thai  I  came !  How  beautiful  it  is  I  How 
beautiful  it  is!  " 

Every  noon  some  of  the  tired,  dusty  work- 
men would  come  and  look  out  of  the  little 
round  window,  sometimes  almost  forgetting  to 
eat  the  bread  and  meat  they  held  in  their 
hands.  Oftentimes  the  window  would  hear 
them  say,  "  It  rests  one's  tired  bones  to  know 
that  the  great  ocean  is  not  so  far  away  after 
all."  There  was  one  pale,  sad-faced  man  who 
used  to  come  every  day  and  lean  his  elbows 
on  the  window  sill  and  gaze,  and  gaze  as  if  he 
were  never  tired  of  looking  out  on  the  view 
which  the  little  round  window  presented. 

When  the  mill  whistle  sounded  its  shrill, 
sharp  note,  telling  the  men  that  the  noonday 
rest  was  over  and  that  they  must  be  back  at 
their  work,  the  pale,  sad-faced  man  would 
sigh,  and  as  he  turned  away,  would  say  softly 
to  himself,  "  I  don't  believe  I  could  stand  the 
grind  of  this  mill  life  if  I  didn't  get  a  breath 
of  ocean  air  from  this  window  each  day  I  M 

Once  in  a  while,  a  good  father  would  bring 
his  children  up  to  the  window  and,  lifting  them 
in  his  strong  arms,  would  let  them  see  the 
green  fields  and  shining  ocean.  Then  the 
children  would  clap  their  hands  and  shout 
aloud  for  joy.  Occasionally  one  would  beg 


THE  DISCONTENTED  MILL  WINDOW.     107 

that  he  might  be  allowed  to  go  away  from  the 
noisy,  dusty  town,  through  the  broad,  green 
fields  to  the  endless  ocean  beyond. 

At  night  when  all  the  town  was  hushed  in 
sleep,  and  even  the  green  fields  looked  cold 
and  dark,  and  deep  shadows  seemed  to  be  on 
every  object,  the  vision  of  the  great  ocean 
was,  if  possible,  more  beautiful  than  during 
the  bright  day.  At  such  hours  the  little, 
round  window  had  the  gleam  of  the  never 
sleeping  waters  all  to  itself,  as  very  few 
people  have  courage  to  climb  much  in  the 
night,  and  none  of  them,  knew  how  beautiful 
the  mighty  ocean  looked  in  the  midst  of  dark- 
ness. So  they  lost  the  gleam  of  the  heavenly 
stars  as  they  were  reflected  in  its  wavelets. 
Sometimes  the  broad  silver  path  which  the 
rnoon  spread  upon  the  surface  of  the  water 
looked  as  if  it  might  be  the  shining  stairway 
to  the  heavenly  gates  themselves,  and  the 
little  round  window  felt  quite  sure  that  it 
saw  bright  angels  ascending  and  descending 
this  silvery  stairway  just  as  they  had  done 
in  the  dream  of  Jacob  of  old.  At  such  times 
the  little  window  would  tremble  all  over  with 
delight. 

But  alas  I  alas !  now  comes  the  sad  part  of 
my  story.  Time  passed  on,  and  so  many 


108  IN  STORY-LAND. 

people  came  to  look  through  the  little,  round 
window  that  scarcely  a  day  went  by  in  which 
the  window  did  not  hear  exclamations  of 
pleasure  and  admiration  escape  from  their  lips. 
Soon  the  foolish  little  window  began  to  think 
that  the  people  were  talking  of  it,  and  not  of 
the  vision  of  the  great  ocean  which  could  be 
seen  through  its  round  window  pane.  Thus 
it  grew  proud  and  vain,  and  thought  it  some- 
how, must  be  superior  to  ordinary  glass 
windows,  and  therefore  it  ought  not  to  be 
treated  like  them.  So  when  the  wet  rain 
clouds  came  one  day,  as  usual,  to  wash  the 
dust  off  the  faces  of  all  the  windows  in  the 
town,  the  little  round  window  in  the  top 
of  the  tall  mill  refused  to  bo  washed.  *'  Tut, 
tut,  tut!"  said  the  rain,  «'  what  nonsense! 
A  window  is  good  for  nothing  unless  it  is 
washed  about  once  in  so  of  ten. " 

However,  the  vain,  little  window  would  not 
listen,  but  held  on  to  the  grimy  soot  and  yellow 
dust  which  had  accumulated  upon  its  surface. 
Even  the  rattle  of  the  fierce  thunder  did  not 
frighten  it,  and  when  the  wind  sighed  and 
sobbed  and  moaned  as  if  to  beg  the  little 
window  to  be  sensible  and  take  the  washing 
which  the  rain  was  trying  to  give  it,  the  ob- 
stinate window  merely  shook  in  its  frame  and 


THE  DISCONTENTED  MILL  WINDOW.      109 

answered,  "  I  tell  you  I  am  not  like  other 
windows.  Every  body  admires  me.  Why 
should  I  have  to  mind  that  cold,  wet  rain, 
just  because  other  windows  do.  I  am  not 
going  to  give  up  my  soot  and  my  dust.  1  am 
going  to  do  just  as  1  please.  Am  I  not  above 
all  the  other  windows?  It  is  well  enough  for 
them  to  be  slapped  in  the  face  by  the  rain  and 
even  sometimes  washed  and  scrubbed  from 
within,  but  none  of  that  for  me" 

And  thus  the  vain,  foolish  little  window  lost 
its  chance  to  be  made  pure  and  clean  again. 

Gradually  the  dust  from  the  street,  and  the 
smoke  from  the  neighboring  chimneys  settled 
thicker  and  thicker  upon  it,  and  of  course  the 
view  of  the  busy,  noisy  town,  of  the  quiet 
green  fields  and  of  the  jrreat,  shining  ocean, 
became  dimmer  and  dimmer  until  at  last  they 
were  lost  sight  of  altogether  and  nothing  could 
be  seen  but  the  round  form  of  the  window,  so 
thick  was  tho  grime  and  dirt  upon  it. 

Now  the  men  ceased  coming  to  the  top  story 
at  their  noon  time,  and  the  owner  of  the  mill 
brought  no  more  gue-ts  to  its  side,  and  the 
little  round  window,  left  to  itself,  became  sad 
and  lonely.  Day  alter  day  passed  and  no  one 
came  near  it.  In  fact,  people  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  that  it  was  in  existence.  One  day 


110  IN  STORY-LAND. 

two  boys  climbed  to  the  attic  in  which  it  had 
been  built,  and  the  little  round  window  said 
eagerly  to  itself,  "  Now  I  shall  hear  some  of 
the  praise  that  belongs  to  me."  But  in  a  very 
few  moments  one  of  the  boys  said  "  Whew  I 
how  close  and  dark  it  is  up  here  I  Let's  go 
down  I  "  "  All  right,"  replied  the  other,  and 
down  they  scampered  without  even  so  much  as 
noticing  the  dust-covered  window. 

At  first  the  window  was  indignant  at  what  it 
termed  their  lack  of  appreciation.  However, 
as  day  and  night  succeeded  each  other  and  days 
grew  into  weeks,  and  weeks  stretched  into  a 
month,  the  little  round  window  had  plenty  of 
time  to  think,  and  by  and  by  came  the  thought, 
"  Why  did  people  ever  crowd  around  me,  and 
climb  many  stairs  to  get  near  me?  "  Then  it 
recalled  the  words  which  it  had  heard,  and  with 
the  recalling  came  the  realization  that  the  talk 
had  all  been  about  the  beautiful  view  which 
it  presented,  and  not  about  itself. 

Then,  indeed,  it  would  have  hung  its  head  in 
shame  if  it  could  have  done  so,  but  although  a 
window  has  a  face,  it  has  no  head,  you  know,  so 
that  all  it  could  do  was  to  turn  itself  on  its 
wooden  pivots  until  its  round  face  was  ready  to 
catch  any  drop  of  rain  that  might  fall.  Nor  did  it 
have  long  to  wait.  The  beautiful  white  clouds 


THE  DISCONTENTED  MILL  WINDOW.     Ill 

which  had  been  drifting  dreamily  across  the 
blue  sky,  changed  into  soft  gray,  and  then 
their  under  parts  became  a  heavy,  dark 
gray,  and  soon  they  began  massing  themselves 
together.  The  wind  arose  and  hurried  the 
smaller  clouds  across  the  sky  as  a  general 
might  marshal  his  troops  for  a  battle,  and  in 
a  little  while  the  whole  heavens  were  covered 
with  gray,  not  even  a  single  spot  of  blue  sky 
remained,  nor  could  one  yellow  sunbeam  be 
seen  on  the  whole  landscape.  The  low  rumble 
of  thunder  could  now  be  heard,  and  quick 
flashes  of  lightning  darted  from  raincloud  to 
raincloud  and  back  again  as  if  they  were  mes- 
sengers sent  to  see  if  all  was  in  readiness  for 
the  storm.  Soon  down  poured  the  rain. 

Not  even  the  thirsty  earth  itself  was  more 
glad  to  receive  the  tens  of  thousands  of  water- 
drops  than  was  the  little  round  window  in  the 
top  story  of  the  tall  mill.  It  not  only  had  its 
outside  face  freed  from  the  dust  and  soot,  but 
with  some  help  from  the  wind,  it  managed  to 
turn  its  inside  face  out  and  thus  be  cleansed 
within  as  well  as  without. 

At  last  the  storm  passed  away ;  the  sun 
shone  again;  the  trees  rustled  their  fresh, 
shining,  green  leaves,  and  all  nature  rejoiced 
in  the  renewed  life  which  the  reviving  rain 


112  IN  STORY-LAND. 

had  brought  with  it.  The  little  round  window 
fairly  glistened  as  its  shining  face  caught  the 
golden  radiance  of  the  last  beams  of  the  set- 
ting sun.  "  Ah,  look  at  the  round  mill  win- 
dow !  "  said  the  miller's  wife,  "  the  rain  has 
washed  it  bright  and  clean.  See  how  it  re- 
flects the  sunset.  To-morrow  we  will  go  up 
and  get  a  view  of  the  ocean  from  it  —  I  had 
almost  forgotten  it." 


THE    STRANGE    8 TORY    OF  A 
WONDERFUL  SEA-GOD. 

I  am  going  to  tell  you  to-day  one  of  the 
strangest  stories  that  has  ever  been  told  to 
little  children.  It  is  such  a  wonderful  story 
that  even  grown  people  read  it  again  and 
again 

Three  thousand  years  ago  Greek  mothers 
used  to  tell  it  to  their  children  as  they  sat 
together  on  the  seashore.  It  is  about  a 
famous  king,  named  Menelaus,  who  after  a 
long  and  cruel  war  was  over,  started  in  his 
good  ship  for  his  much  loved  home  in  Sparta. 
Thinking  only  of  himself  in  his  impatience 
to  get  home,  he  forgot  to  give  worship  to 
the  gods,  to  thank  them  for  his  deliverance 
and  to  a^k  them  to  guide  him  safely  to  his 
journey's  end.  We  shall  soon  see  what 
trouble  his  thoughtlessness  brought  upon 
him,  and  not  him  alone,  but  all  his  fol- 
lowers. 

In  those  days  there  were  no  great  ocean 
steamers  such  as  we  have  now,  therefore 
Menelaus  and  his  men  had  to  cross  the  dark, 
8  (113) 


114  IV  STOKY-LAND. 

mysterious  sea  in  small  boats  which  they 
rowed  with  oars.  Sometimes  when  the  wind 
was  favorable  they  would  hoist  a  sail  and  thus 
be  helped  along  on  their  journey.  As  it  was 
impossible  for  them  to  go  forward  when  the 
strong,  though  invisible,  wind  was  not  blow- 
ing in  a  favorable  direction,  you  can  easily 
imagine  their  dismay  when,  having  stopped 
one  evening  in  a  sheltered  bay  on  the  coast  of 
a  small  island,  they  awoke  next  morning  to 
find  the  wind  blowing  steadily  in  the  opposite 
direction  from  the  one  in  which  they  wished 
to  sail.  They  waited  all  day  hoping  that 
the  strong  breeze  would  die  down,  or  change 
its  direction .  The  next  day  and  the  next  passed 
and  still  the  wind  blew  steadily  away  from 
their  beloved  homes.  Although  it  was  invis- 
ible it  had  more  strength  than  all  of  them, 
and  they  could  make  no  headway  against  it. 
Had  they  not  watched  it  lift  huge  waves  high 
in  the  air  and  dash  them  against  the  sharp 
rocks?  Had  they  not  seen  it  twist  and  turn 
the  strong  branches  of  great  trees,  and  some- 
times bend,  and  even  break  their  mighty 
trunks?  And  yet  they  knew  at  other  times 
how  gentle  it  could  be.  Had  they  not  listened 
to  its  soft,  low  song  as  it  rustled  over  the  tall 
grass?  How  glad  they  always  were  when  it 


THE  WONDEBFUL   SEA -GOD.  115 

rattled  and  stirred  their  white  sails,  filling 
their  hearts  with  promises  of  help  on  the 
way  ?  They  could  not  always  understand  what 
it  was  saying,  but  they  felt  sure  that  it  came 
from  the  ever-living  gods  and  always  brought 
some  message  of  love,  or  command  to  them. 

So,  as  day  after  day  it  blew  a  fierce,  wild 
gale  over  their  heads,  and  on  beyond,  hurry- 
ing clouds  across  the  sky,  dashing  the  waves 
against  the  shore,  whirling  the  dust  into  their 
faces  and  hurriedly  uttering  hoarse  whispering 
sounds  as  it  passed  them,  they  knew  that  it 
was  warning  them  against  daring  to  continue 
their  homeward  journey. 

Twenty  days  had  come  and  gone,  and  still 
the  wind  kept  up  its  fierce,  loud  tone  of  com- 
mand as  it  rushed  from  the  far  away  west, 
shook  the  waters  of  the  vast  ocean,  swept 
over  the  small,  rocky  island  and  sped  on 
toward  the  east.  The  courage  of  the  poor 
sailors  was  almost  exhausted.  Their  provis- 
ions were  giving  out.  They  had  to  catch  fish 
to  satisfy  each  day's  hunger.  Menelaus,  their 
chief,  was  wandering  alone  upon  the  seashore. 
He  was  very  unhappy,  for  he  feared  much 
that  all  this  trouble  had  come  upon  his  com- 
rades because  he  had  not  obeyed  the  law  of 
the  gods  before  he  left  Egypt.  So  he  was 


116  IN-  STOKY-LAND. 

much  distressed  in  mind  as  he  walked  along 
the  sandy  beach. 

The  sun  was  sinking  to  rest,  the  evening 
shadows  were  settling  down  between  the  rocky 
hills,  the  darkness  of  night  was  approaching, 
when  suddenly  there  stood  before  him  a  beau- 
tiful being,  of  so  dazzling  an  appearance  that 
he  knew  she  could  not  be  a  woman,  she  must 
be  an  immortal.  Her  saffron  robes  gleamed 
with  light  as  do  the  sunset  clouds.  Her  face 
was  as  radiant  as  are  the  last  rays  of  the 
departing  sun.  It  was  the  beautiful  goddess, 
Idothea.  Her  face  suddenly  became  stern  as 
she  looked  at  King  Menelaus  and  asked  him  why 
he  tarried  idly  upon  the  small,  rocky  island. 
He  replied  that  he  did  not  willingly  remain,  but 
that  he  must  surely  have  sinned  against  the  gods, 
as  they  had  sent  a  strong,  fierce  wind  to  hin- 
der his  homeward  voyage.  Then  he  earnestly 
begged  her  to  tell  him  what  to  do.  The  stern 
look  left  her  face  as  she  heard  him  confess  that 
he  had  done  wrong.  She  came  nearer  to  him, 
and  herglittering  robes  changed  from  saffron  to 
pink,  and  blue,  and  even  gray,  and  the  lights 
played  above,  around  and  about  her  in  the 
most  wonderful  fashion,  changing  each  mo- 
ment as  she  spoke. 

She  told  him  that  she  was  the  daughter  of 


THE  WONDERFUL   SEA- GOD.  117 

Proteus,  the  Ancient  of  the  Deep,  who,  living 
for  thousands  and  thousands  of  years  in  the 
bottom  of  the  great  ocean,  had  gone  wherever 
the  restless  waves  of  the  sea  had  gone,  and 
had  learned  the  secrets  of  both  land  and 
water.  He  knew  the  song  of  the  winds  and 
could  interpret  every  message  which  they 
brought  from  the  gods,  therefore  he,  and  he 
alone,  could  tell  Menelaus  what  it  was  that 
the  strong,  fierce  wind  had  been  crying  out 
to  him  and  his  companions  for  the  past  twenty 
days. 

Now  comes  the  strange  part  of  our  story. 
This  sea-god,  Proteus,  was  a  most  remarkable 
being.  He  had  the  power  to  change  himself 
into  whatever  form  he  chose,  as  you  will  soon 
see.  The  only  way  to  get  any  secret  from 
him  was  to  catch  him  when  he  was  asleep,  and 
then  to  hold  on  to  him,  no  matter  what  shape 
he  might  choose  to  take,  until  at  last  he  re- 
turned to  his  original  form  of  the  old  man  of 
the  sea. 

Idothea  told  Menelaus  that  this  strange 
father  of  hers  would  rise  out  of  the  sea  at 
about  noon  the  next  day,  and  would  walk  over 
to  a  large  cavern  not  far  distant,  where  his  sea- 
calves  took  their  daily  sleep,  and  that  when  he 
had  counted  them  to  see  if  they  were  all 


118  IN  STORY-LAND. 

there,  he  would  lie  down  in  the  midst  of  them 
and  go  to  sleep  also.  This,  said  she,  would 
be  the  time  for  Menelaus  and  three  of  his 
trusted  sailors  to  spring  upon  him  and  seize 
him  firmly,  and  she  added  that  they  must  hold 
on  to  him,  no  matter  what  happened,  until  he 
changed  back  into  his  own  form,  that  of  an 
old  man ;  then  they  could  ask  him  any  ques- 
tions they  wished  and  he  would  be  compelled 
to  answer  them. 

Having  given  Menelaus  these  instructions, 
the  beautiful  goddess  suddenly  plunged  into 
the  ocean  and  the  green  waves  closed  over  her. 

With  bowed  head  and  mind  filled  with  anx- 
ious thought  Menelaus  returned  to  his  men. 
They  gathered  round  their  boats  on  the  sea- 
shore and  ate  their  scanty  evening  meal. 
Silently  and  solemnly  the  night  settled  down 
upon  the  landscape  and  made  the  trees  look 
like  dark,  shadowy  forms,  and  the  outlines  of 
the  hills  grew  dim,  and  the  ocean  was  covered 
by  the  hush  of  the  darkness,  and  silence  reigned 
over  all. 

The  sailors  threw  themselves  down  upon  the 
sand  and  were  soon  fast  asleep.  Menelaus  lay 
beside  them,  but  I  fear  much  that  he  did  not 
sleep.  His  mind  was  troubled.  What  would 
the  next  day  bring  forth  ?  He  was  to  meet  the 


THE  WONDERFUL   SEA-GOD.  119 

strange  and  terrible  Ancient  of  the  Deep,  and 
was  to  struggle  fiercely  with  him.  Would  he 
be  able  to  cope  with  the  monster?  Would  he 
have  the  courage  to  hold  on  to  him?  What 
awful  and  unknown  shapes  might  not  the 
creature  take?  These  and  a  hundred  other 
questions  kept  rising  in  his  mind  and  banished 
all  sleep  from  his  eyes.  One  by  one  the  stars 
came  out  in  the  deep,  black  sky  above  his  head. 
Had  not  the  gods  kept  them  in  their  places 
for  unnumbered  ages?  Could  not  these  same 
gods  protect  and  strengthen  him  when  they 
knew  that  in  his  heart  he  was  striving  to  learn 
what  was  their  will?  The  night  slowly  wore 
away,  and  when  the  faint  purplish  light  softened 
the  eastern  sky,  he  arose  and  going  apart  from 
his  sleeping  comrades,  he  knelt  down  and 
prayed  earnestly  to  the  ever-living  gods. 
Then  returning  to  his  men,  he  awoke  the  three 
whom  he  could  trust  the  most,  and  taking 
them  with  him  he  sought  the  spot  where  the 
goddess  Idothea  had  promised  to  meet  him. 
She,  radiant  as  the  dawn,  was  already  there 
awaiting  him. 

As  they  approached  she  plunged  into  the  sea 
and  was  lost  to  sight.  In  a  few  moments, 
however,  she  re-appeared  bringing  with  her  the 
newly  flayed  skins  of  four  sea-calves.  Then 


120  IN  STOEY-LAND. 

quickly  digging  four  oblong  holes  in  the  wet 
sand  she  commanded  Menelaus  and  his  three 
companions  to  lie  down  in  them.  This  they 
did,  and  she  skillfully  spread  over  each  of 
them,  one  of  the  skins  which  she  had  brought 
from  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  After  they 
were  so  closely  covered  that  even  the  shrewd 
Proteus  would  mistake  them  for  sea-calves, 
the  radiant  goddess  seated  herself  on  a  rock 
not  far  distant,  to  await  his  coming. 

The  horrible  smell  which  came  from  the 
skins  of  the  newly-slain  sea-calves  was  so  sick- 
ening that  Menelaus  and  his  three  comrades 
could  not  stand  it,  and  were  about  to  give  up 
the  attempt  to  capture  the  sea-god,  when  the 
shining  goddess  came  to  the  rescue.  Bringing 
from,  they  knew  not  whence,  some  fragrant 
ambrosia,  the  food  of  the  immortals,  she 
placed  it  beneath  their  nostrils  and  its  sweet 
perfume  made  them  forget  the  loathsome 
coverings  with  which  they  were  concealed. 
Its  refreshing  odor  soon  restored  their  strength 
and  thus  they  were  able  to  remain  hidden  until 
the  noon  hour. 

Then  the  sea-calves  floundering  much  rose 
from  the  depths  of  the  ocean  and  began  crawl- 
ing along  the  sand.  They  came  in  throngs  and 
laid  themselves  down  in  rows  upon  the  sandy 


THE  WONDEBFUL   SEA-GOD.  121 

shore  beside  the  brave  but  anxious  heroes. 
Soon  the  sunlit  waves  parted  from  right  to  left 
and  slowly  and  solemnly  Proteus,  the  Ancient 
of  the  Deep,  appeared.  His  hair  and  beard 
and  garments  were  covered  with  white  foam. 
He  walked  over  to  where  his  sea-calves  lay 
basking  in  the  sun  and  counted  them.  This 
was  a  trying  time  for  Menelaus.  His  heart 
beat  loud  and  fast,  so  great  was  his  fear  that 
he  and  his  companions  might  be  discovered. 
But  the  goddess  had  done  her  work  too  well 
for  that.  Proteus  did  not  notice  any  differ- 
ence between  them  and  the  beasts  which  lay 
about  them.  Having  finished  his  task,  he 
stretched  his  body  upon  the  sand  beside  his 
flock,  ready  for  his  afternoon  nap. 

Now  was  the  critical  moment !  Menelaus 
and  his  men  throwing  off  the  skins  of  the  dead 
sea-calves  sprang  forward  with  loud  shouts, 
and  before  the  old  sea-god  knew  it,  they  had 
fast  hold  of  his  arms  and  legs. 

Proteus  having  the  power  to  change  his  body 
into  whatever  shape  he  pleased,  suddenly  trans- 
formed himself  into  a  roaring  lion,  so  fierce 
and  strong  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  might  crush 
anything  that  came  in  his  way.  Still  Mene- 
laus and  his  stout-hearted  men  held  on.  Then, 
in  an  instant  the  lion  became  a  fiery  panther 


122  IN  STORY-LAND. 

whose  glaring  eyes  struck  terror  into  their 
hearts,  but  still  they  held  on.  In  a  moment 
more  a  large  snake  was  twisting  and  writhing 
in  their  hands,  hissing  and  darting  his  forked 
tongue  out  as  if  he  would  gladly  poison  all  of 
them,  still  they  held  on.  Shape  after  shape  the 
monster  assumed,  but  still  they  held  on.  Now 
it  was  a  clear,  harmless  stream  of  water  flow- 
ing gently  through  their  hands.  Again  it  was 
a  flame  of  fire  darting  here  and  there  threaten- 
ing to  scorch  their  faces  and  even  to  burn  out 
their  eyes  ;  still  they  held  on.  Then  it  became 
a  beautiful  tree,  tall  and  stately,  with  broad 
spreading  branches  and  shining  green  leaves, 
still  they  held  on. 

At  last,  finding  that  his  enchantments  were 
of  no  avail  he  changed  back  into  his  real  form 
and  turning  to  Menelaus  he  said, "  What 
wouldst  thou  have?"  Menelaus  begged  him 
to  tell  why  he  and  his  faithful  sailors  were  kept 
from  crossing  the  dark  waters  of  the  sea 
to  their  distant  homes.  Then  Proteus,  the 
Ancient  of  the  Deep,  who  knew  all  secrets  of 
both  gods  and  men,  told  him  that  he  must  go 
back  to  Egypt  where  he  had  sinned,  and  do  all 
that  he  could  to  atone  for  that  sin  before  he 
might  hope  to  reach  his  beloved  home. 

Menelaus  now  understood  what  the  wind  had 


THE  WONDERFUL   SEA-GOD.  123 

been  trying  to  tell  him.  Each  hoarse  whisper 
as  the  gale  rushed  by,  meant  "  Return  to 
Egypt!  Return  to  Egypt!"  In  fact,  all 
these  twenty  days  it  had  been  blowing  in  that 
direction,  as  if  to  assure  the  manners  that  it 
would  fill  their  sails  and  help  them  to  return 
to  Egypt  if  they  would  only  launch  their  boats 
and  turn  the  prows  eastward. 

This  they  did  the  very  next  day,  and  soon 
were  back  on  Egypt's  shore.  Due  worship 
was  paid  to  the  gods,  and  then  right  merrily 
the  wind  whistled  and  sang  about  their  ears  as 
it  filled  their  white  sails  and  helped  them  to 
speed  across  the  blue  water,  and  in  a  few  days 
they  had  reached  their  beloved  home-land. 

But  never  to  the  end  of  their  lives  did  they 
forget  the  terrible  struggle  with  the  Mighty 
Proteus,  Ancient  of  the  Deep,  where  by  hold- 
ing on  they  had  won  the  silent  battle..  And 
oftentimes  they  told  the  story  to  their  children 
and  grandchildren,  just  as  I  am  telling  it  to 
you,  to-day. 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE. 

I  want  to  tell  a  beautiful  story  to  you, 
dear  children.  It  has  been  told  over  and 
over  again  for  six  hundred  years,  yet  people 
keep  reading  it,  and  re-reading  it,  and  wise 
men  never  tire  of  studying  it.  Many  great 
artists  have  painted  pictures,  and  sculptors 
have  made  statues,  and  musicians  have  com- 
posed operas,  and  clergymen  have  written 
sermons  from  thoughts  inspired  by  it.  A 
great  poet  first  gave  it  to  the  world  in  the 
form  of  a  grand  poem  which  some  day  you 
may  read,  but  I  will  try  to  tell  it  to  you 
to-day  as  a  short  story.  I  am  afraid  that  you 
would  go  to  sleep  if  I  should  undertake  to 
read  the  poem  to  you.  You  do  not  yet  know 
enough  about  life  to  understand  it. 

Once  upon  a  time,  very  long  ago,  there  was 
a  man  whose  name  was  Dante.  He  had  done 
wrong  and  had  wandered  a  long  way  from  his 
home.  He  does  not  tell  us  how,  or  why. 
He  begins  by  saying  that  he  had  gone  to  sleep 
in  a  great  forest.  Suddenly  he  awoke,  and 
(124) 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE.  125 

tried   to  find  his  way  out  of  it,  first  by  one 
path,  and  then  another;  but  all  in  vain. 

Through  an  opening  where  the  tall  trees  had 
not  grown  quite  so  thick,  he  saw  in  the  dis- 
tance a  great  mountain,  on  the  top  of  which 
the  sun  was  shining  brightly.  «*  Ah  I  "  thought 
he  to  himself,  "  if  I  can  but  reach  the  top  of 
that  mountain  I  am  sure  I  can  see  a  long  way 
in  every  direction.  No  woods  can  grow  tall 
enough  to  keep  me  from  finding  my  path 
then  I"  So  with  new  courage  he  started  to- 
ward the  mountain,  but  he  had  not  walked  far 
when  a  beautiful  spotted  panther  stood  with 
glaring  eyes  in  his  pathway.  He  trembled, 
for  he  knew  that  going  forward  meant  that  he 
would  be  destroyed.  He  turned  hastily  aside 
into  another  path,  but  he  had  gone  only  a  short 
distance  in  this  direction  before  he  saw  a  huge 
lion  coming  toward  him.  In  greater  haste 
than  before  he  turned  into  still  another  path. 
His  heart  was  beating  very  fast  now,  and  he 
hastened  along  without  taking  much  notice  of 
what  lay  before  him.  Suddenly  he  came  upon 
a  lean  and  hungry  wolf,  which  looked  as  if  he 
could  devour  half  a  dozen  men.  Dante  turned 
and  fled  back  into  the  dark  woods,  "  where 
the  sun  was  silent."  He  thought,  "  What  is 
the  use  of  trying  to  get  out  of  this  terrible 


126  IN  STORY-LAND. 

forest?  There  are  wild  beasts  on  every  side. 
If  I  escape  one  I  am  sure  to  be  devoured  by 
another;  I  might  as  well  give  up  trying. " 
He  had  now  lost  all  hope. 

Just  at  this  moment  he  saw  a  man  coming 
towards  him.  The  face  of  the  man  was  beam- 
ing with  smiles  as  if  he  had  some  good  news 
to  tell.  Dante  ran  forward  to  meet  him,  cry- 
ing, "  Have  mercy  on  me,  whoever  you  are  ! 
See  that  beast  from  which  I  have  fled !  My 
body  is  trembling  yet  with  fright.!' 

The  strange  man,  whose  name  was  Virgil, 
told  Dante  that  he  had  come  to  help  him,  but 
that  they  would  have  to  go  by  another  path  to 
get  out  of  this  savage  wilderness.  He  then 
explained  that  they  must  go  down  through  a 
deep,  bad-smelling  and  dark  hole  in  the 
ground,  and  must  meet  with  many  disagree- 
able things  and  crawl  through  much  dirt  and 
filth ;  but  after  they  had  gone  through  this 
close,  dirty  tunnel,  they  would  again  see  the 
light,  and  if  they  had  strength  enough  to 
climb,  they  might  in  the  end  get  to  a  delight- 
ful spot  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  called  the 
Terrestrial  Paradise,  from  which  lovely  place 
Dante  could  go  home  if  he  wanted  to. 

At  first  Dante  was  afraid  to  go  with  Virgil, 
although  he  had  often  read  the  wise  and  noble 


THE   VISION   OF  DANTE.  127 

books  which  the  latter  had  written.  But  when 
he  heard  that  Beatrice,  whom  he  had  loved  as 
he  loved  no  one  else  on  earth,  had  come  from 
Heaven  in  the  form  of  a  bright  Angel  to  urge 
Virgil  to  come  to  him,  his  heart  was  so  filled 
with  joy  that  he  at  once  renewed  his  courage, 
and  told  Virgil  to  go  forward,  promising  that 
he  would  trust  him  as  a  guide. 

They  then  began  their  perilous  journey. 
The  dark  pit  through  which  they  were  to  pass 
was  the  shape  of  an  immense  funnel  or  a  cone 
turned  upside  down.  It  was  so  large  that  it 
reached  from  the  surface  down  to  the  very 
center  of  the  earth.  Indeed,  though  it  was  as 
twilight  where  they  entered,  and  was  quite 
wide  and  airy,  yet  as  they  slowly  traveled 
down  its  rocky  sides  the  place  grew  darker 
and  narrower  and  the  air  more  stifling,  and 
the  smell  was  worse  than  anything  of  which 
you  have  ever  dreamed.  At  times  Dante 
nearly  fainted,  but  Virgil  put  his  arms  around 
him  and  held  him  up  until  he  revived.  I  will 
not  stop  to  tell  you  of  all  the  horrible  expe- 
riences they  went  through.  By  and  by  when 
you  grow  to  be  men  and  women,  you  can  read 
the  whole  poem  for  yourselves. 

At  last  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the  foul 
pit ;  it  was  the  very  center  of  the  earth,  and 


128  IN  STOUT-LAND. 

was  the  darkest  spot  possible.  Then  they 
began  to  climb  through  the  narrow  opening 
which  they  saw.  They  wanted  to  get  to  the 
surface  on  the  other  side  of  the  world,  and 
again  see  the  light  of  the  sun. 

Dante  felt  as  if  he  were  escaping  from  a 
terrible  plague-stricken  prison-house.  The 
first  things  he  looked  at  were  four  beautiful 
stars  shining  far  above  his  head ;  then  he  knew 
he  was  where  he  could  get  fresh  air  and  light, 
for  he  felt  sure  that  where  stars  were  to  be 
seen  air  and  light  could  be  found.  He  soon 
discovered  that  he  was  on  a  large  island,  in 
the  middle  of  which  stood  a  great  mountain. 
This,  Virgil  told  Dante,  was  the  mountain 
which  they  would  have  to  climb. 

It  was  Easter  morning  ! 

As  they  were  looking  about  them,  not 
knowing  exactly  which  way  to  turn,  they  saw 
an  old  man  with  a  long  white  beard.  His 
face  was  so  radiant  that  it  reminded  Dante  of 
the  stars  at  which  he  had  been  gazing.  The 
old  man  told  them  where  to  go  to  begin  the 
ascent  of  the  mountain.  But  he  said  that  Virgil 
must  first  get  the  grime  and  dirt  off  of  Dante. 
You  know  we  cannot  very  well  get  into  dirty 
places  without  having  some  of  the  cinders  and 
ashes  and  other  filth  stick  to  us.  He  also 


THE  VISION  OF  DANTE.  129 

kindly  told  them  where  they  could  find  some 
easily  bent  rushes  which  they  could  use  to 
gird  up  Dante's  long  cloak,  so  that  he  might 
climb  the  better. 

I  think  it  must  have  been  the  old  man's 
kindness  to  the  many  strangers  who  came  to 
the  island  that  caused  his  face  to  look  so 
beaming  as  to  remind  Dante  of  the  stars. 
Poor  Dante  thought  over  all  his  past  life,  how 
he  had  wandered  away  from  his  home,  how  he 
had  found  himself  in  the  gloomy  woods,  how 
he  had  met  the  fierce  beasts,  and  last  of  all  he 
thought  of  the  blackening  dirt  he  had  gotten 
on  himself  in  coming  through  the  deep  hole. 
Then  he  thought  of  his  rescue  from  all  these 
evils  and  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 
Virgil  spread  his  hands  out  upon  the  grass, 
still  wet  with  the  dew  from  heaven,  and  with 
the  moisture  thus  gained,  he  washed  Dante's 
face.  The  tears  Dante  was  shedding  helped 
to  wash  away  the  dirt. 

After  this  they  went  to  where  the  rushes 
were  growing  and  gathered  some  for  a  belt  for 
Dante.  Strange  as  it  may  sound  to  you,  dear 
children,  as  fast  as  they  gathered  one  rush, 
another  sprang  up  in  its  place.  They  bound 
these  enchanted  rushes  around  Dante's  waist, 
9 


130  /#  STOBY-LAND. 

and  he  was  now  ready  for  the  upward  climb 
and  was  quite  eager  to  begin. 

They  turned  and  looked  once  more  at  the 
ocean.  Dante's  eyes  were  just  beginning  to 
get  used  to  the  sunlight.  Suddenly  he  saw  a 
strange  white  light  coming  along  the  sea  to- 
wards them.  He  was  astonished.  As  it  came 
nearer  and  nearer  the  light  grew  more  and  more 
dazzling,  and  Dante  saw  that  it  was  a  glorious 
and  radiant  angel!  He  fell  upon  his  knees  and 
dropped  his  gaze  to  the  ground,  for  the  face 
of  the  angel  was  so  bright  that  he  could  not 
look  upon  it.  The  strange  and  beautiful 
being  came  swiftly  forward,  bringing  with  him 
a  email  boat  full  of  people,  the  very  water 
became  resplendent  with  light  as  the  boat 
moved  swiftly  through  it,  yet  the  angel  had 
neither  oar  nor  sail.  His  shining  wings, 
spread  high  above  his  head,  seemed  to  waft  the 
boat  along  by  some  invisible  power.  He 
landed  the  people,  and  —  quick  as  a  sunbeam 
was  gone. 

The  newly  arrived  souls  came  up  to  Dante 
and  Virgil  and  inquired  the  way,  for  they  too 
were  going  up  the  steep,  rough  mountain, 
around  which  wound  a  difficult  path.  The  end 
of  the  path  no  one  could  see.  They  walked 
along  together  for  a  short  distance,  and  while 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE.  131 

Virgil  was  searching  the  ground  for  the  right 
path,  Dante  lifted  his  eyes  upward  and  saw 
some  people  looking  over  a  rocky  wall  that 
bordered  the  road  on  the  next  bend  above  them. 
To  these  fellow-travelers  he  called  for  help, 
as  he  felt  sure  they  must  have  found  the  right 
path  up  the  mountain's  side.  They  gladly 
pointed  out  the  spot  where  Yirgil  and  Dante 
could  find  the  way,  and  soon  they  were  upon  it. 
But  now  arose  a  serious  difficulty.  From  the 
growing  twilight  they  knew  that  night  was 
coming  on,  and  in  this  strange,  new  country 
nobody  dared  travel  in  the  dark.  There  were 
too  many  pitfalls  and  stumbling  blocks  to  make 
it  safe  to  travel  without  the  light  of  the  sun. 
Virgil  knew  that  the  wisest  and  best  thing  to 
do  in  hours  of  darkness  was  to  keep  still  and 
wait  for  more  light.  A  man  whom  they  had 
met  on  the  road  pointed  out  a  safe,  little  valley 
where  they  could  stay  until  the  sunlight  came 
once  more. 

Ah,  how  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that 
valley  ! 

It  was  called  the  Valley  of  the  Princes.  As 
they  approached  it  a  vision  burst  upon  them 
of  the  loveliest  spot  that  could  be  imagined. 
If  gold  and  silver  and  scarlet  and  green  and 
blue  and  all  the  finest  colors  in  the  world  were 


132  iy  STOB7-LAND. 

put  together  into  a  flower  garden  they  would 
not  make  anything  half  so  beautiful  as  was 
this  Valley  of  the  Princes.  Not  only  were 
the  colors  so  fine,  but  the  perfumes  were  the 
sweetest  ever  breathed.  They  went  quietly 
and  slowly  into  the  valley  and  sat  down.  The 
air  about  them  grew  darker  and  darker  as  the 
sun  set  behind  the  mountains. 

All  at  once  Dante  heard  some  voices  singing 
a  gentle  hymn.  I  think  it  must  have  been  a 
hymn  something  like  our  own  little  hymn, 
•'Wearily  at  Daylight's  Close,"  for  it  made 
Dante  think  of  the  Heavenly  Father,  and  look 
up  into  the  sky,  whose  only  brightness  was 
the  stars  shining  far  above  his  head.  As  he 
looked  he  saw  sweep  down  out  of  the  high 
heavens  two  glad  angels  of  God,  robed  in  pale, 
shining  green.  Each  was  surrounded  with  a 
radiance  so  bright  that  it  was  dazzling;  both 
carried  swords  of  fire.  Lightning  never  came 
from  the  sky  more  swiftly  than  did  these  two 
angels.  They  separated  as  they  approached 
the  earth ;  one  placed  himself  upon  the  moun- 
tain on  one  side  of  the  valley  and  the  other 
upon  the  mountain  on  the  other  side.  Dante 
wondered  what  all  this  meant,  but  the  man 
who  had  told  them  where  to  find  the  valley 
was  still  with  them.  He  explained  that  the 


THE  VISION  OF  DANTE.  133 

angels  had  come  to  protect  all  travelers  who 
were  staying  in  the  dark  valley  until  light 
should  come  again  and  they  could  see  to  go 
forward. 

Just  then  Dante  turned  and  saw  a  large, 
ugly  snake  winding  its  way  silently  through 
the  grass.  Quick  as  a  flash  of  lightning  one 
of  the  angels  descended  from  his  high  post, 
and,  with  a  touch  of  his  flaming  sword,  turned 
the  snake,  which  fled  in  dismay.  Then  Dante 
knew  that  the  angels  had  indeed  been  sent 
from  heaven,  and  in  his  heart  he  felt  very  glad 
that  all  through  this  dark  night  he  might  be 
sure  of  their  protecting  love.  So  he  quietly 
laid  himself  down  upon  the  grass,  and  went 
to  sleep.  While  sleeping  he  had  a  strange 
dream ;  an  eagle  of  fire  seemed  to  be  bearing 
him  up  through  the  air. 

He  awoke.  It  was  morning;  the  sun  was 
shining  and  the  birds  were  singing.  Flowers 
were  blooming  all  around  him — and  yet  it 
was  not  the  same  place  in  which  he  had  gone 
to  sleep.  He  saw  on  looking  about  him  that 
he  was  farther  up  the  mountain  side.  He 
turned  with  a  question  to  Virgil,  who  soon  told 
him  that  while  he  had  slept  in  the  Valley  of 
the  Princes  another  angel,  named  Lucia,  had 
been  sent  from  Heaven  to  bear  him  in  her  arms 


134  IN  STORY-LAND. 

over  the  rough  places  where  he  could  not  have 
traveled  unaided,  and  that  he  now  stood  at 
the  real  entrance  of  the  path  up  the  mountain. 

"  We  must  pass  through  that  gate  which 
you  see  in  front  of  you,"  said  Virgil,  "  and 
before  you  enter  it  I  must  tell  you  that 
there  will  be  some  very  hard  climbing  for 
you,  and  sometimes  you  will  grow  weary  and 
discouraged,  but  be  assured  that  it  will  become 
less  painful  as  you  climb.  The  hardest  part 
is  the  first  part.  It  grows  easier  and  easier 
as  you  near  the  top,  untiU  when  you  reach 
the  Terrestrial  Paradise,  there  will  be  no 
longer  any  climbing  at  all.  There  you  shall 
see  your  beloved  Beatrice  and  she  will  reveal 
to  you  a  vision  of  GOD." 

With  this  they  started  towards  the  gate. 
Now  I  must  tell  you  about  this  gate, 
children,  because  it  was  a  very  peculiar  gate, 
and  some  of  these  days  you  may  have  to  go 
through  it  yourselves.  As  they  came  near, 
Dante  saw  that  it  had  three  broad  steps  lead- 
ing up  to  it.  The  bottom  step  was  like 
polished  marble,  and  so  shining  that  you 
could  see  your  face  reflected  in  it.  Each 
traveler  who  approached  it  saw  just  how 
unclean  he  was,  or  how  tired,  or  how  cross 
looking.  The  next  step  was  a  dark  purplish 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE.  135 

black  step.  It  was  cracked  lengthwise  and 
crosswise,  and  had  a  sad  look  about  it  as  if  it 
were  sorry  for  the  reflections  which  it  saw  in 
the  bottom  step.  The  third  step  at  the  top 
was  red,  so  red  that  it  reminded  Dante  of 
blood.  Above  this  towered  the  great  gate- 
way. Upon  the  sill  of  this  gate  sat  another 
wonderful  angel  in  shining  garments  which 
were  brighter  than  the  moon.  His  feet  rested 
upon  the  top  step. 

As  Dante  and  Virgil  approached,  the  angel 
asked  them  what  they  wanted.  They  told 
him  that  they  wished  to  go  through  the  gate 
in  order  that  they  might  climb  the  mountain. 
The  angel  leaned  forward,  and  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword  which  he  held  in  his  hand  he 
printed  on  Dante's  forehead  seven  letters. 
Dante  knew  that  the  seven  letters  stood  for 
the  seven  things  that  were  wrong  inside  of  his 
heart.  Then  the  angel  took  from  his  side 
a  silver  key  and  a  golden  key,  and  unlocking 
the  gate  with  each,  he  let  it  swing  wide  upon 
its  hinges,  and  our  two  travelers  passed 
through. 

They  had  no  sooner  entered  than  they  heard 
a  man  singing  praises  to  God.  As  they  trav- 
eled along  the  path  which  wound  upward, 
they  saw  upon  the  rocks  at  their  sides  won- 


136  IN  STORY-LAND. 

derfully  carved  pictures  of  people  who  had 
been  good  and  kind  and  always  thoughtful 
of  others  instead  of  themselves.  As  Dante 
looked  at  them  they  seemed  to  him  to  be  the 
most  marvelous  pictures  he  had  ever  seen. 
He  thought  within  his  heart,  "  How  beauti- 
ful !"  "How  beautiful!"  "How  I  wish 
I  could  be  like  these  people!"  Then  he 
turned  and  looked  down  upon  the  rocks  on 
which  he  was  treading,  he  saw  there  were 
more  carvings  upon  the  stones  below;  but 
these  were  of  people  who  thought  of  nobody 
but  themselves  — haughty  people,  selfish  peo- 
ple, and  idle  ones. 

As  Dante  gazed  upon  them,  he  bowed  him- 
self lower  and  lower,  for  he  thought  within  his 
heart,  "  I  fear  I  am  more  like  these  people 
than  I  am  like  the  others."  He  had  been  a 
proud  and  haughty  man  in  the  past,  and  now 
he  knew  how  ugly  and  selfish  that  haughtiness 
was.  As  he  ascended  the  road,  he  must  have 
prayed  to  God  to  make  him  more  like  the 
beautiful  and  gentle  people  whose  portraits  he 
had  seen  upon  the  rocks  at  his  side.  He  had 
been  walking,  bent  very  low ;  all  at  once  he 
straightened  himself  up;  he  felt  as  if  some 
great  weight  had  been  lifted  off  his  shoulders. 
He  turned  to  Virgil,  saying,  "  Master,  from 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE.  137 

what  heavy  thing  have  I  been  lightened  ?" 
Virgil  glanced  up  at  his  forehead.  Dante 
stretched  forth  the  fingers  of  his  hand  and 
felt  the  letters  which  the  angel  had  placed 
upon  his  forehead.  There  were  but  six. 
There  had  been  seven.  Virgil  smiled,  and  the 
two  passed  on. 

Their  ears  caught  the  sound  of  voices  singing 
in  sweet  tones,  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit!  ""  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit  I" 
Then  Dante  knew  that  the  other  souls,  too,  had 
prayed  to  God  to  take  pride  and  haughtiness 
and  selfishness  out  of  their  lives. 

They  passed  along  to  the  higher  terrace  on 
the  mountain  side,  and  here  they  saw  no  pic- 
tures, but  heard  strange,  sweet  voices  singing 
through  the  air.  These  voices  were  singing  of 
the  people  who  had  been  glad  when  others 
were  made  happy,  who  had  loved  and  praised 
the  good  in  those  about  them,  who  had  rejoiced 
when  some  one  else  besides  themselves  had 
been  commended.  The  voices  seemed  so  joy- 
ful as  they  told  of  these  loving  hearts,  that 
Dante  shut  his  eyes  and  listened.  Soon  he 
heard  other  voices  tell  of  the  people  who  had 
liked  to  talk  of  themselves  and  not  of  others, 
who  did  not  care  to  hear  anybody  else  praised, 
people  whom  it  made  unhappy  to  know  that 


138  IN  STOEY-LAND. 

anybody  else  was  happy.  "  Ah  !  "  thought  he 
to  himself,  "  I  fear,  I  fear  that  I  have  been  like 
these  last  people  of  whom  the  voices  tell  such 
sad,  unhappy  things.  How  I  long  with  all  my 
heart  to  be  freed  from  this  hateful  thing  called 


Then  he  prayed  to  God  to  help  him 
to  rejoice  over  the  happiness  of  others,  to  be 
willing  to  help  others,  and  to  realize  that 
others  were  helping  him  ;  and  as  he  thought 
these  thoughts  and  prayed  this  prayer,  another 
burden  seemed  lifted  from  off  him,  and  he 
put  his  hand  to  his  forehead  and  found  that 
another  of  the  terrible  letters  was  gone.  He 
had  but  five  remaining  on  his  forehead  now, 
and  already  the  climbing  seemed  easier. 

They  soon  came  to  another  very  difficult 
passage  in  the  road,  and  so  rough  and  sharp 
were  the  rocks  which  stood  in  the  pathway  that 
Dante's  heart  failed  him,  and  he  must  have 
stopped  in  his  onward  journey  up  the  mountain 
had  not  another  loving  angel  of  God  come 
from  some  unseen  point,  and,  lifting  him  with 
strong  arms,  carried  him  over  the  hard  place, 
setting  him  again  upon  his  feet.  I  think 
Dante  must  have  thanked  God  for  thus  send- 
ing him  help  in  his  moment  of  discouragement  ; 
at  any  rate  he  felt  that  he  had  been  slothful 


THE   VISION  OF  DANTE.  139 

and  not  eager  enough  to  reach  the  top  of  the 
mountain. 

On  and  on  he  traveled,  sometimes  with 
voices  in  the  air  singing  to  encourage  him, 
sometimes  with  warnings  coming  from  un- 
known quarters.  The  very  trees  laden  with 
fruit  on  the  roadside  seemed  to  say,  "  Take 
enough  of  us,  but  do  not  eat  too  much;  a 
glutton  cannot  see  GOD." 

As  they  mounted  higher  and  higher  the 
landscape  grew  broader  and  broader,  and  more 
filled  with  a  strange,  new  sunshine.  The  huge 
boulders  and  angry-looking  rocks  below,  which 
had  so  frightened  Dante  as  he  began  his  jour- 
ney, seemed  now  scarcely  larger  than  pebbles 
and  little  stones.  He  smiled  to  think  that  he 
had  never  cared  for  them  at  all.  Weariness 
was  now  gone,  the  last  of  the  mysterious  letters 
had  vanished  from  his  forehead,  and  the  one 
longing  of  Dante's  heart  was  to  meet  again 
his  beautiful  and  beloved  Beatrice,  and  be  led 
by  her  into  the  presence  of  the  Great  GOD  of 
the  Universe,  who  had  so  wonderfully  and  so 
mysteriously  sent  His  angels  to  help  him  on 
the  way. 

At  last  they  reached  the  spot  called  the 
Terrestrial  Paradise,  and  there,  as  Virgil  had 
told  him,  stood  his  loving  Beatrice,  who  took 


140  IN  STORY-LAND. 

him  by  tne  nand  and  led  him  up  into  Heaven 
itself,  beyond  the  clouds,  beyond  the  stars, 
beyond  planets  and  worlds,  even  to  the  foot  of 
the  Throne  of  GOD  ! 

Of  this  I  cannot  tell  you.  No  words  of 
mine  could  make  you  see  that  glorious  vision 
as  Dante  then  beheld  it.  Your  own  little 
hearts  must  be  freed  from  all  wrong  thoughts, 
from  all  evil  motives,  from  all  selfish  desires, 
must  be  filled  with  a  love  of  others,  and  with 
generous  willingness  to  do  for  others,  and 
then  may  come  to  you,  too,  some  day,  this 
Great  Vision  that  came  to  Dante. 

And  you  will  then  learn  that  God  is  with 
you  all  the  time,  but  only  the  pure  in  heart 
can  see  Him. 


STORIES  OF  HEROES. 


(141) 


HO  W  LITTLE  CEDUIG  BECAME  A 
KNIGHT. 

A  long  time  ago  there  lived  a  little  boy 
whose  name  was  Cedric.  At  the  foot  of  a 
high  hill,  on  the  top  of  which  stood  a  grand 
old  castle,  was  the  stone  hut  in  which  he  lived. 
The  little  boy  had  many  a  time  watched  the 
strong,  iron  gate  rise  slowly  from  the  ground, 
as  out  of  the  courtyard  of  the  castle  would  ride 
Sir  Rollin  DuBois  and  his  faithful  soldiers. 
There  were  sometimes  two,  or  three  visiting 
knights  and  their  followers  and  they  were  a 
gay  sight  as  the  sun  shone  on  their  glittering 
armor  of  steel  and  glanced  from  their  bright 
helmets.  They  looked  so  strong  and  resolute 
as  they  sat,  calm  and  erect,  in  their  saddles. 
A  glance  into  their  fine  faces  would  have 
assured  you  that  they  were  noble  and  brave 
and  could  be  trusted  by  everybody,  from  the 
King  to  the  poorest  peasant  in  the  land.  Their 
very  horses  seemed  proud  to  carry  them  as  they 
galloped  along.  Little  Cedric  thought  there 
never  was  anything  more  beautiful  than  these 

(143) 


144  IN  STORY-LAND. 

knights  as  they  came  down  the  hill  on  some 
quest  of  adventure,  or  errand  of  mercy. 

One  day  Cedric  had  been  playing  with  his 
pet  kitten.  After  a  good  romp  with  her,  he 
had  thrown  himself  down  on  the  soft  green 
grass  to  rest,  and  the  queer  little  kitten  had 
gone  out  into  the  middle  of  the  dusty  road  and 
curled  herself  up  for  a  nice  nap.  Suddenly 
Cedric  looked  up,  and  saw  five  knights  with 
all  their  squires  and  pages  galloping  down  the 
road  I  In  a  moment  more  his  eye  fell  upon 
the  kitten  lying  fast  asleep  in  the  middle  of 
the  highway.  Fearing  that  the  horsemen 
would  not  see  her,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  ran 
quickly  forward  and  gathered  the  soft  little 
thing  up  in  his  arms,  just  in  time  to  save  it 
from  the  horses'  feet. 

As  the  riders  passed,  one  of  the  tall  knights 
slackened  his  horse  and  smiling  down  upon 
Cedric  said,  "  My  little  fellow,  you  are  almost 
brave  enough  to  be  a  knight  some  day."  He 
then  galloped  on  to  join  his  party  and  soon  the 
yellow  dust  which  they  had  raised  from  the 
ground,  settled  down  again. 

Cedric  stood  looking  after  the  horsemen 
until  they  seemed  a  mere  speck  in  the 
distance  and  then  disappeared  all  together. 
He  did  not  even  notice  the  kitten  in  his 


LITTLE    CEDBIC.  145 

arms  when  she  put  her  nose  up  against  his 
cheek. 

At  last  he  turned  to  go  into  the  house,  and 
as  he  went,  he  said  softly  to  himself,  "To  be 
a  knight  some  day!"  "To  be  a  knight 
some  day!"  He  ate  his  simple  sup- 
per of  bread  and  milk  in  silence.  His  mother 
noticed  how  quiet  he  was,  but  she  said  nothing, 
for  she  knew  that  in  his  own  good  time  he 
would  tell  her  all  that  was  in  his  heart. 

That  night  as  he  undressed  for  bed  he 
looked  up  at  the  stars  and  said  in  a  soft,  low 
tone,  "  Beautiful  stars,  do  you  know  what  a 
wonderful  thing  Sir  Rollin  said  to  me  to-day? 
He  told  me  that  perhaps  some  day  I  might  be 
a  knight!"  He  could  hardly  sleep,  he  was 
so  happy.  The  great  knight  had  spoken  to 
him,  had  praised  his  courage,  and,  best  of  all, 
had  said  that  perhaps,  some  day,  he,  Cedric, 
might  be  a  great  knight  himself!  "Could 
such  a  thing  possibly  come  to  pass?"  He 
asked  himself  this  question  over  and  over 
again,  until  at  last  he  fell  asleep  and 
dreamed  that  he  was  a  large,  strong  man,  and 
wore  a  shining  armor  of  steel  and  rode  a 
splendid  black  horse,  and  carried  a  great  sword 
and  that  all  the  people  of  the  country  round 
about  honored  and  loved  him  because  he 
ML 


146  IN  STOEY-LAND. 

was  one  of  the  bravest  knights  in  the  whole 
land. 

Just  as  he  was  dreaming  that  he  was  about 
to  rescue  a  beautiful  princess  from  an  ugly 
giant  who  had  shut  her  up  in  a  prison,  he 
heard  his  mother  calling  him.  He  opened  his 
eyes  and  saw  that  the  sky  was  all  pink  and 
gold  with  the  clouds  of  the  sunrise,  and  that 
he  was  only  little  Cedric  in  his  attic  chamber. 
He  dressed  himself  quickly  and  climbed  down 
the  wooden  ladder  to  the  room  below. 

He  was  soon  busy  and  happy,  helping  his 
mother  feed  the  doves  and  water  the  cow  and 
fetch  hay  for  the  two  horses.  After  his  father 
had  eaten  his  breakfast,  and  had  gone  to  his 
work  in  the  field,  the  little  would-be  knight 
and  his  mother  washed  the  dishes  and  tidied 
the  two  small  rooms.  Cedric  was  very  fond 
of  thus  helping  her  with  the  work,  and  she 
often  said,  "  My  little  boy  is  both  son  and 
daughter  to  me."  By  and  by  she  sat  down  to 
her  sewing.  Then  Cedric  could  keep  his 
secret  no  longer.  Going  up  to  her,  he 
put  his  arm  around  her  neck  and  whimpered 
to  her  the  story  of  the  knight,  how  he  had 
stopped  and  spoken,  and  what  he  had  said. 
"  Do  you  think  I  could  ever  grow  up  to  be  a 
knight,  mother?"  asked  he.  His  mother 


LITTLE    CEDEIC.  147 

smiled,  and  then  looked  sober  as  she  brushed 
his  brown  hair  back  from  his  forehead  and 
said,  "Knights  have  many,  many  hard  things 
to  do,  my  son,  and  oftentimes  their  lives  are 
in  danger."  "  Yes,  I  know,"  answered 
Cedric  eagerly,  "  but  think,  mother,  how  brave 
they  are,  and  how  good !  Do  they  not  protect 
our  country?"  "  Yes,"  said  his  mother, 
"  I  know  all  that.  I  could  not  sleep  at  night 
when  our  enemies  are  near  at  hand  if  I  did  not 
know  that  Sir  Rollin  Dubois  and  his  brave 
soldiers  were  on  the  hill  close  by.  But  you 
are  a  very  little  boy,  Cedric.  Run  out  to  your 
play  now." 

Many  times  during  the  next  few  weeks 
little  Cedric  thought  of  the  grand  knights  and 
how  one  of  them  had  smiled  at  him  and  had 
spoken  as  if  he,  Cedric,  might  some  day  be  a 
great,  strong  knight  and  ride  a  beautiful 
horse,  and  do  brave  deeds. 

Weeks  passed  by  and  the  spring  had  changed 
into  summer.  One  evening,  just  as  the  setting 
sun  was  turning  all  the  white  clouds  into  gold 
and  crimson,  Cedric  stood  in  the  low  doorway 
wondering  if  where  the  angels  lived  could  be 
more  beautiful  than  was  the  sky  over  his  dear 
mountain  home.  He  suddenly  heard  the  tramp 
of  horses'  feet,  and  looking  down  across  the 


148  IN  STORY-LAND. 

plain,  he  saw  a  gay  party  of  horsemen.  Their 
armor  flashed  and  shone  in  the  light  of  the 
setting  sun  and  their  long  white  plumes  waved 
in  the  gentle  evening  breeze.  His  face 
lighted  up  with  a  glad  smile,  for  he  knew  that 
it  was  Sir  Kollin  Dubois  and  his  soldiers 
returning  from  the  terrible  war  to  which  the 
King  had  sent  them.  They  soon  came  near 
enough  for  Cedric  to  see  their  faces,  as  the 
heavy  steel  visors  of  their  helmets  were  lifted 
so  that  they  might  breathe  more  freely  the 
soft  summer  air.  It  had  been  a  warm  day, 
and  Cedric  noticed  that  even  the  tallest  knight 
among  them  looked  tired,  and  as  if  he  would 
be  glad  to  get  to  the  castle  and  lay  aside,  for 
a  while  at  least,  his  heavy  armor. 

Just  as  they  were  passing  the  door  in  which 
Cedric  stood,  one  of  them  stopped  his  horse 
and  leaning  forward  said,  "  My  little  man, 
will  you  give  me  a  drink  of  water?  "  Cedric 
ran  quickly  and  filled  a  cup  with  fresh,  cool 
water  from  the  spring  near  by,  and  brought  it 
to  the  knight.  "Thank  you,"  said  the  noble- 
man, as  he  handed  the  cup  back  to  Cedric.  "  I 
am  very  glad  to  be  able  to  serve  you,"  said 
Cedric  quietly.  The  knight  smiled,  gathered 
up  the  reins  of  his  horse,  and  said,  "  You  are 
as  courteous  as  a  knight,  my  boy." 


LITTLE    CEDEIO.  149 

That  evening  Cedric  told  his  mother  of  this 
second  speech,  and  then  he  asked  as  a  wistful 
look  came  over  his  face,  "  Ah,  mother  dear, 
do  you  think  I  can  ever  become  a  knight? " 

Weeks  passed  into  months  and  the  soft,  gray 
snow  clouds  had  covered  the  green  hills  with 
the  white  mantle  of  winter.  Whenever  Cedric 
felt  like  being  rude,  or  cross,  or  selfish,  he 
thought  of  the  bright  smile  on  the  great 
knight's  face  that  summer  evening,  when  he 
had  asked  for  the  cup  of  cold  water,  and  he 
felt  sure  the  smile  would  change  into  a  frown 
if  the  knight  should  see  him  do  a  discourteous 
or  a  selfish  act. 

A  year  or  two  had  passed  when  one  day 
something  happened  which  Cedric  never  for- 
got. His  father  came  in  from  his  work  and 
said,  "  Sir  Rollin  Dubois  wants  a  young  lad 
to  come  to  the  castle  to  take  the  place  of  his 
page  who  has  lately  been  promoted.  Do  you 
think,  wife,  that  our  Cedric  is  strong  enough 
for  such  an  office?"  Cedric' s  heart  almost 
stopped  beating  while  he  listened  for  his 
mother's  answer.  She  thought  for  a  few 
moments  and  then  said  slowly  as  if  weighing 
each  word,  "  Yes,  I  think  he  would  try  very 
hard  to  do  his  duty,  and  I  should  like  to  have 
him  learn  more  of  knighthood.  Perhaps  some 


150  Ztf   STORY-LAND. 

day  he  too  may  be  a  knight,  who  knows?" 
she  added,  as  she  turned  smilingly  to  the 
radiant  face  of  her  boy. 

That  very  afternoon  she  made  a  bundle  of 
his  few  clothes,  and  his  father  took  him  by 
the  hand  and  walked  with  him  up  the  steep 
hill  to  the  great  castle  gate.  Cedric  had 
never  before  been  so  near  the  castle,  and  when 
his  father  lifted  the  heavy  iron  knocker  and 
brought  it  down  with  two  or  three  loud 
knocks,  it  seemed  to  Cedric  that  his  heart 
was  knocking  almost  as  loudly.  Not  that  he 
was  afraid,  but  he  was  stirred  by  the  thought 
of  going  into  the  presence  of  the  great  and 
noble  Sir  Rollin  whom  all  people  loved  and 
revered. 

The  huge  iron  gate  slowly  lifted.  The 
drawbridge  was  already  thrown  across  the 
ditch  of  water  which  surrounded  the  castle  and 
in  a  few  moments  Cedric  and  his  father  had 
passed  under  the  stone  archway  and  were 
standing  within  the  courtyard.  A  man  took 
them  into  a  large  room  whose  walls  and  floors 
were  of  stone,  and  bade  them  sit  down  on  a 
wooden  bench  which  stood  near  the  door,  say- 
ing at  the  same  time,  "I  will  tell  Sir  Rollin 
that  you  are  here." 

They  had  been  waiting  some  time  when  a 


LITTLE    CEDBIC.  151 

door  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  opened  and 
a  large,  well  built  man,  who  looked  so  tall  and 
straight  that  he  reminded  Cedric  of  a  moun- 
tain pine,  came  forward.  He  was  not  dressed 
in  armor,  but  Cedric  knew  at  once  that  it  was 
Sir  Kollin  Dubois.  The  knight  talked  a  few 
moments  with  Cedric's  father  and  then  turn- 
ing to  Cedric  he  said  "  And  you  think  you 
would  like  to  become  a  knight,  my  boy?  Are 
you  sure  that  you  will  not  mind  hard  work 
and  will  remember  always  to  be  true  and  pure, 
brave  and  unselfish?"  Cedric's  smile  was  so 
bright  that  no  answer  was  needed.  The  knight 
turned  again  to  his  father  and  said,  "  Do  you 
realize  that  it  will  take  some  ten  years  or  more 
of  discipline  and  hard  work  on  the  part  of 
your  boy,  before  he  can  hope  to  be  promoted 
to  a  position  of  responsibility?"  "Yes," 
said  the  father  quietly,  "but  I  think  he  is 
willing  to  try  it." 

After  a  little  talk  it  was  decided  that  the  boy 
should  begin  his  training  then  and  there.  So 
his  father  bade  him  good-bye  and  left.  Cedric 
was  taken  by  an  older  boy  up  some  stone  stairs 
to  a  small  room  whose  ceiling,  walls  and  floor 
were  of  stone.  In  the  corner  of  the  room  lay 
a  pile  of  straw,  over  which  had  been  thrown  a 
sheepskin.  At  one  side  of  the  room  was  a 


152  IN  STORY-LAND. 

small  table.  No  other  furniture  was  in  the 
apartment  save  a  cedar  chest  which  was  doubt- 
less intended  to  serve  for  both  chair  and  ward- 
robe. There  was  a  narrow  pointed  window  in 
one  side  of  the  room  through  which  the  sun- 
light came.  Cedric  went  up  to  the  window 
and  looked  out,  but  it  was  so  high  that  he 
could  see  only  the  blue  sky  and  a  soft  white 
cloud.  "  Ah,"  thought  Cedric  to  himself,  "  I 
can  at  least  see  the  stars  at  night  and  the  sun- 
light each  morning.  Will  they  not  remind  me 
always  of  the  good  God  who  watches  over 
me?" 

That  night  his  supper  consisted  of  some 
coarse  barley  bread  and  a  bowl  of  broth. 
Cedric,  however,  was  used  to  simple  food,  and 
did  not  mind  this  part  of  his  discipline.  As 
he  lay  down  upon  the  pile  of  straw  and  drew 
the  sheep-skin  over  him,  he  thought  of  his 
nice  warm  bed  at  home,  but  instantly  came  this 
other  thought,  "  I  must  learn  to  be  hardy  and 
strong  if  I  am  ever  to  do  any  great  work  in 
the  world.  So,  I  will  not  mind  such  little 
discomforts  as  these." 

Cedric  soon  found  that  he  had  not  only  to 
eat  coarse  food  and  sleep  upon  a  hard  bed, 
but  that  he  had  to  practice  standing  very 
straight,  running  very  swiftly,  being  able  to 


LITTLE    CEDRIC.  158 

manage  a  horse,  to  jump  on  and  off  while  the 
horse  was  in  full  gallop,  to  throw  his  spear 
with  unerring  accuracy,  and  also  that  he  must 
be  prompt  and  ready  to  obey  a  call  from  Sir 
Rollin,  that  he  must  not  only  learn  to  do 
errands  faithfully  and  quickly,  but  to  wait 
patiently  and  quietly  oftentimes  when  he 
could  not  understand  why  he  waited. 

Year  after  year  passed  by  and  little  Cedric 
had  grown  large  and  tall.  When  he  visited 
his  home  he  used  often  to  laugh  at  the  little 
bed  which  had  once  held  him  so  cosily.  Not 
only  had  he  grown  strong  and  tall,  but  he  had 
grown  even  more  in  thoughtfulness  and 
courtesy  toward  all  about  him. 

One  day  Sir  Rollin  sent  for  him.  "  Cedric, " 
said  he,  "  I  wish  you  to  take  a  message  to  the 
King.  It  is  quite  an  important  one  and  it 
must  reach  him  before  to-morrow  night.  Get 
ready  as  quickly  as  you  can.  Take  my  gray 
horse,  as  he  is  the  swiftest  one  in  the  stables, 
and  remember  that  I  have  trusted  you  much 
by  sending  you  upon  this  errand.'7 

Cedric' s  heart  beat  with  joy,  as  he  thought, 
"  At  last  I  have  proved  faithful  enough  to  be 
sent  with  a  message  to  our  great  King."  He 
was  ready  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  and 
jumping  on  the  splendid  gray  charger  he  went 


154  IN   STOKY-LAND. 

galloping  down  the  highway.     On  and  on  he 
rode. 

At  last  he  entered  a  thick  forest  of  pine 
trees.  The  road  grew  very  dark  and  lone- 
some. "  What  if  I  should  meet  some  wild 
beast,'7  thought  Cedric,  but  he  added,  half 
aloud,  "  If  I  am  ever  to  be  a  knight,  I  must 
learn  to  be  brave  and  face  every  danger."  It 
was  not  long  before  he  was  quite  sure  that 
he  heard  a  deep,  low  growl.  His  heart 
beat  fast,  but  he  rode  steadily  forward  and 
soon  the  growl  was  repeated,  this  time  nearer 
and  more  distinct,  and  Cedric  saw  in  the  dim 
light,  a  great  wild  boar  coming  towards  him. 
The  creature's  eyes  were  shining  like  fire,  and 
his  white  tusks  overhung  his  lower  jaw  in  a 
fierce  and  forbidding  fashion.  Cedric  knew 
that  this  must  be  the  beast  which  had  de- 
stroyed so  many  of  the  cattle  of  the  neigh- 
boring peasants,  but  who  was  so  strong  and 
savage  that  no  one  had  dared  to  go  near 
him.  He  spurred  his  horse  forward  as  he 
thought,  "  If  I  kill  this  wild  boar  I  will 
already  begin  to  be  of  service  to  the  people  of 
my  country."  So  he  lifted  the  spear  which 
he  carried  at  his  side,  from  its  leathern  socket, 
and  raising  it  high  in  the  air,  he  hurled  it 
swiftly  at  the  beast  who  was  ready  to  spring 


LITTLE    CEDRIC.  155 

upon  him.  In  a  moment  more  the  wild  boar 
rolled  over  upon  the  ground,  dead.  Cedric 
reached  down  and  drew  his  spear  from  its 
side,  and  as  he  rode  on  again  he  thought, 
"  Wolves  and  wild  boars  must  not  stop  the 
way  of  a  messenger  of  the  King.  I  must  fear 
nothing  if  I  am  to  be  a  knight." 

After  a  time  his  road  lay  out  of  the  forest 
into  the  sunlight.  As  he  approached  a  small 
village  he  heard  a  great  noise  as  of  much 
shouting  and  soon  he  saw  a  group  of  boys  who 
were  evidently  hooting  and  laughing  at  some- 
thing in  their  midst.  He  rode  up  to  where 
they  were  and  felt  himself  growing  indignant 
as  he  saw  an  old,  deformed  man  standing  in 
their  midst,  at  whom  they  were  jeering.  In  a 
moment  he  sprang  from  his  horse  and  pressing 
through  the  crowd  of  boys  he  stood  beside  the 
old  man.  On  his  face  was  a  flush  of  indignant 
anger.  "  How  dare  you,"  he  exclaimed,*'  laugh 
at  or  insult  an  old  man  like  this?  "  The  boys 
drew  back,  frightened.  Although  he  was 
really  no  taller  than  they,  he  seemed  to  tower 
above  them.  "  My,"  exclaimed  one  of  them 
in  a  whisper,  "  doesn't  he  look  like  a  knight 
as  he  stands  there  ?  "  "I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
he  were  one,"  said  another. 

Cedric  turned    to   the   old    man    who  was 


156  IN  8TOKY-LAND. 

trembling  in  every  limb.  "  Where  are  you 
going?  "  asked  he  kindly.  "  Only  to  the  next 
village,"  said  the  old  man,  "  but  these  boys 
stopped  me  on  my  way.  I  cannot  help  my 
deformity  nor  my  old  age.  I  wish  I  could." 
The  tears  stood  in  his  eyes  as  he  spoke. 
"  Come,"  said  Cedric  gently,  "  let  me  help 
you  upon  my  horse.  I,  too,  am  going  to  the 
next  village." 

When  they  had  reached  the  next  village 
Cedric  helped  the  old  man  from  the  horse  at 
his  own  door.  Then,  mounting,  he  thought 
to  himself,  "  I  am  very  hungry,  I  think  I  will 
stop  at  the  village  inn  and  get  a  good  warm 
supper."  "  No,"  said  he  on  second  thought, 
"  I  cannot  stop  now.  I  have  had  to  travel  so 
slowly  because  of  the  old  man  that  I  must 
make  up  for  lost  time."  With  that  he  tight- 
ened the  rein  of  his  beautiful  horse,  and  the 
two  had  soon  left  the  village  far  in  the 
distance.  Cedric  reached  back  to  a  leather 
pouch  behind  him  and  took  from  it  a  dry  bis- 
cuit which  had  to  serve  for  his  supper  that 
night. 

Late  in  the  evening  he  reached  the  house  at 
which  he  was  to  rest  his  horse  and  he  himself 
slept  for  a  few  hours.  By  dawn  the  next  day 
he  was  up  and  off  on  his  journey.  As  he  was 


LITTLE    CEDBIC.  157 

riding  by  a  small  stream  of  water  he  noticed  a 
poor,  little  fish  that  some  thoughtless  fisherman 
had  thrown  upon  the  bank  as  too  insignificant 
to  be  taken  home  for  breakfast.  The  tiny 
creature  was  struggling  and  gasping  for  breath 
as  it  vainly  tried  to  get  back  into  the  water. 
"  Ah,  you  poor  little  thing,"  thought  Cedric, 
"  I  wish  I  had  time  to  put  you  back  into  the 
stream,  but  I  haven't,  and  so  he  rode  on. 
Then  came  the  thought,  "  A  knight  would 
take  time  to  help  anything  that  was  suffering. 
If  I  am  ever  to  be  a  knight  I  must  do  so  too." 
With  this  thought,  he  turned  and  was  soon 
back  again  at  the  spot  where  the  little  fish  lay. 
He  got  down  off  of  his  horse,  and  taking  the 
poor  creature  in  his  hand  as  gently  as  possible, 
he  stooped  down  and  put  it  into  the  stream  of 
water.  It  swam  rapidly  away  as  if  glad, 
beyond  words,  to  get  back  into  its  own  ele- 
ment. Its  swiftly  moving  tail  seemed  to 
Cedric,  as  he  watched  it  for  a  moment,  to  say, 
"  Thank  you,  Cedric,  thank  you,  thank  you  I" 
He  then  jumped  on  his  horse  again  and  rode 
on. 

The  day  grew  very  warm,  but  Cedric  knew 
that  he  must  not  stop  for  his  own  comfort ; 
his  errand  was  an  important  one  and  he  must 
reach  the  King's  palace  before  night. 


158  IN  STORY-LKND. 

At  last  the  beautiful  palace  came  in  sight 
and  in  a  few  moments  Cedric  had  ridden  into 
the  courtyard.  He  gave  his  letter  to  a  servant 
to  carry  it  to  one  of  the  squires  who  gave  it  to 
a  courtier  who  presented  it  to  the  King;  for 
you  must  remember  in  those  days  a  King 
was  a  very  great  person,  and  only  those  men 
who  had  risen  high  in  rank  could  approach 
him. 

Among  other  things  the  note  contained  this 
message.  It  told  the  King  that  the  bearer  was 
a  young  lad  who  had  been  in  training  for 
knighthood  and  that  Sir  Rollin  had  found  him 
always  brave  and  trustworthy,  true  and 
noble,  kind  and  courteous,  and  that  he,  Sir 
Rollin,  thought  if  the  King  wanted  him  in 
his  army,  he  would  find  him  worthy  of  the 
place. 

The  King  sent  for  Cedric  to  come  to  him 
personally.  Our  little  boy  had  grown  into  a 
tall  man,  you  know,  and  his  frank,  pure  face 
was  good  to  look  upon.  The  King  told  him 
that  he  wished  to  put  him  in  office  in  his 
army ;  and  thus  Cedric  went  to  live  in  the 
King's  household  and  here  he  learned  many 
things  which  he  could  not  have  learned  at  the 
castle  of  Sir  Rollin  DuBois. 


LITTLE    CEDRIC.  159 

Several  years  passed  by,  and  Cedric  had 
been  intrusted  with  many  enterprises,  both 
difficult  and  dangerous.  At  last  one  day  the 
King  sent  for  him  to  come  into  the  throne 
room.  There  sat  the  King  upon  a  beautiful 
throne  of  gold;  beside  him  sat  the  queen. 
Over  their  head  was  a  crimson  velvet  canopy. 
Standing  about  the  room  were  a  great  number 
of  courtiers  and  grand  ladies.  As  Cedric 
entered  the  room,  the  King  said,  "  Come 
forward." 

Cedric  stepped  forward  and  kneeled  upon 
one  knee  before  the  throne,  as  was  the  custom 
in  those  days.  The  King  raised  his  beautiful 
golden  scepter  and  struck  Cedric  lightly  upon 
the  shoulder  with  it,  saying  at  the  same  time, 
"Kise,  Sir  Cedric  of  Altholstane."  And 
Cedric  knew  then  that  he  was,  at  last,  a 
knight  I 

In  time  he  had  a  beautiful  castle  of  his 
own,  arid  splendid  armor,  the  most  beautiful 
black  horse  that  you  ever  saw.  The  hand- 
some horse  used  to  prance  and  toss  his  head 
proudly  in  the  air  as  if  he  knew  what  a  noble 
young  knight  he  was  carrying.  After  a  while 
Cedric  had  a  lovely  wife  and  two  or  three 
sweet  little  children  of  his  own,  and  as  he  rode 


160  IN    STOUT-LAND. 

abroad  over  the  country,  many  a  time  the 
peasants  standing  in  their  cottage  doors, 
would  say  to  each  other,  "  There  goes  the 
brave  Sir  Cedric  of  Altholstane.  God  bless 
him  !  May  he  live  long  to  help  protect  our 
country. "  And  all  the  people  loved  him. 


STORY  OF  CHRISTOPHER  COLUM- 
BUS FOR   LITTLE  CHILDREN. 

Once  upon  a  time,  far  across  the  great 
ocean  there  lived  a  little  boy  named  Christo- 
pher. The  city  in  which  he  lived  was  called 
Genoa.  It  was  on  the  coast  of  the  great  sea, 
and  from  the  time  that  little  Christopher  could 
first  remember  he  had  seen  boats  come  and  go 
across  the  water.  I  doubt  not  that  he  had 
little  boats  of  his  own  which  he  tried  to  sail, 
or  paddle  about  on  the  small  pools  near  his 
home. 

Soon  after  he  was  old  enough  to  read  books, 
which  in  those  days  were  very  scarce  and 
very  much  valued,  he  got  hold  of  an  account 
of  the  wonderful  travels  of  a  man  named 
Marco  Polo.  Over  and  over  again  little  Chris- 
topher read  the  marvelous  stories  told  by  this 
old  traveler,  of  the  strange  cities  which  he  had 
seen  and  of  the  dark-colored  people  whom  he 
had  met ;  of  the  queer  houses ;  of  the  wild 
and  beautiful  animals  he  had  encountered;  of 
the  jewels  and  perfumes  and  flowers  which  he 
had  come  across. 

11  (161) 


162  J2\T   STORY-LAND. 

All  day  long  the  thoughts  of  little  Chris- 
topher were  busy  with  this  strange  far-away 
land  which  Marco  Polo  described.  All  night 
long  he  dreamed  of  the  marvelous  sights  to  be 
seen  on  those  distant  shores.  Many  a  time  he 
went  down  to  the  water's  edge  to  watch  the 
queer  ships  as  they  slowly  disappeared  in  the 
dim  distance,  where  the  sea  and  sky  seemed  to 
meet.  He  listened  eagerly  to  everything 
about  the  sea  and  the  voyages  of  adventure, 
or  of  trade  which  were  told  by  the  sailors 
near. 

When  he  was  fourteen  years  old  he  went  to 
sea  with  an  uncle,  who  was  commander  of  one 
of  the  vessels  that  came  and  went  from  the 
port  of  Genoa.  For  a  number  of  years  he 
thus  lived  on  a  vessel,  learning  everything 
that  he  could  about  the  sea.  At  one  time  the 
ship  on  which  he  was  sailing  had  a  desperate 
fight  with  another  ship;  both  took  fire  and 
were  burned  to  the  water's  edge.  Chris- 
topher Columbus,  for  that  was  his  full  name, 
only  escaped,  as  did  the  other  sailors,  by 
jumping  into  the  sea  and  swimming  to  the 
shore.  Still  this  did  not  cure  him  of  his  love 
for  the  ocean  life. 

We  find  after  a  time  that  he  left  Italy,  his 
native  country,  and  went  to  live  in  Portugal, 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS.  163 

a  land  near  the  great  sea,  whose  people  were 
far  more  venturesome  than  had  been  those 
of  Genoa.  Here  he  married  a  beautiful 
maiden ,  whose  father  had  collected  a  rich  store 
of  maps  and  charts,  which  showed  what  was 
then  supposed  to  be  the  shape  of  the  earth 
and  told  of  strange  and  wonderful  voyages 
which  brave  sailors  had  from  time  to  time 
dared  to  make  out  into  the  then  unknown  sea. 
Most  people  in  those  days  thought  it  was  cer- 
tain death  to  any  one  who  ventured  very  far 
out  on  the  ocean. 

There  were  all  sorts  of  queer  and  absurd 
ideas  afloat  as  to  the  shape  of  the  earth.  Some 
people  thought  it  was  round  like  a  pancake 
and  that  the  waters  which  surrounded  the  land 
gradually  changed  into  mist  and  vapor  and  that 
he  who  ventured  out  into  these  vapors  fell 
through  the  mist  and  clouds  down  into  —  they 
knew  not  where.  Others  believed  that  there 
were  huge  monsters  living  in  the  distant  waters 
ready  to  swallow  any  sailor  who  was  foolish 
enough  to  venture  near  them. 

But  Christopher  Columbus  had  grown  to  be 
a  very  wise  and  thoughtful  man  and  from  all 
he  could  learn  from  the  maps  of  his  father-in- 
law  and  the  books  which  he  read,  and  from 
the  long  talks  which  he  had  with  some  other 


164  I2V   STORY-LAND. 

learned  men,  he  grew  more  and  more  certain 
that  the  world  was  round  like  an  orange,  and 
that  by  sailing  westward  from  the  coast  of 
Portugal  one  could  gradually  go  round  the 
world  and  find  at  last  the  wonderful  land  of 
Cathay,  the  strange  country  which  lay  far 
beyond  the  sea,  the  accounts  of  which  had  so 
thrilled  him  as  a  boy. 

We,  of  course,  know  that  he  was  right  in  his 
belief  concerning  the  shape  of  the  earth,  but 
people  in  those  days  laughed  him  to  scorn 
when  he  spoke  of  making  a  voyage  out  on  the 
vast  and  fearful  ocean.  In  vain  he  talked  and 
reasoned  and  argued,  and  drew  maps  to  explain 
matters.  The  more  he  proved  to  his  own  sat- 
isfaction that  this  must  be  the  shape  of  the 
world,  the  more  other  people  shook  their 
heads  and  called  him  crazy. 

He  remembered  in  his  readings  of  the  book 
of  Marco  Polo's  travels  that  the  people  whom 
he  had  met  were  heathen  who  knew  little 
about  the  dear  God  who  had  made  the  world, 
and  nothing  at  all  about  His  son,  Christ 
Jesus,  and  as  Christopher  Columbus  loved 
very  dearly  the  Christian  religion,  his  mind 
became  filled  with  a  longing  to  carry  it  across 
the  great  seas  to  this  far-away  country.  The 
more  he  thought  about  it  the  more  he  wanted 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS.  165 

to  go,  until  his  whole  life  was  filled  with  the 
one  thought  of  how  to  get  hold  of  some  ships 
to  prove  that  the  earth  was  round,  and  that 
these  far-away  heathens  could  be  reached. 

Through  some  influential  friends  he  obtained 
admission  to  the  court  of  the  King  of  Por- 
tugal. Eagerly  he  told  the  rich  monarch  of 
the  great  enterprise  which  filled  his  heart.  It 
was  of  little  or  no  use,  the  King  was  busy 
with  other  affairs,  and  only  listened  to  the 
words  of  Columbus  as  one  might  listen  to  the 
wind.  Year  after  year  passed  by,  Columbus' 
wife  had  died,  and  their  one  little  son,  Diego, 
had  grown  to  be  quite  a  boy.  Finally  Colum- 
bus decided  he  would  leave  Portugal  and 
would  go  over  to  Spain,  a  rich  country  near 
by,  and  see  if  the  Spanish  monarchs  would 
not  give  him  boats  in  which  to  make  his 
longed-for  voyage. 

The  Spanish  King  was  named  Ferdinand, 
and  the  Spanish  Queen  was  a  beautiful  woman 
named  Isabella.  When  Columbus  told  them 
of  his  belief  that  the  world  was  round,  and  of 
his  desire  to  help  the  heathen  who  lived  in  this 
far-off  country,  they  listened  attentively  to 
him,  for  both  King  Ferdinand  and  Queen 
Isabella  were  very  earnest  people  and  very 
desirous  that  all  the  world  should  become 


166  IN  STORY-LAND. 

Christians  ;  but  their  ministers  and  officers  of 
state  persuaded  them  that  the  whole  thing  was 
a  foolish  dream  of  an  enthusiastic,  visionary 
man  ;  and  again  Columbus  was  disappointed 
in  his  hope  of  getting  help. 

Still  he  did  not  give  up  in  despair.  The 
thought  ivas  too  great  for  that.  He  sent  his 
brother  over  to  England  to  see  if  the  English 
King  would  not  listen  to  him  and  give  the 
necessary  help,  but  again  he  was  doomed  to 
disappointment.  Only  here  and  there  could 
he  find  any  one  who  believed  that  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  to  sail  round  the  earth  and  reach 
the  land  on  the  other  side.  Long  years  passed 
by.  Columbus  grew  pale  and  thin  with  wait- 
ing and  hoping,  with  planning  and  longing. 

Sometimes  as  he  walked  along  the  streets 
of  the  Spanish  capital  people  would  point 
their  fingers  at  him  and  say:  "  There  goes 
the  crazy  old  man  who  thinks  the  world  is 
round."  Again  and  again  Columbus  tried  to 
persuade  the  Spanish  King  and  Queen  that 
if  they  would  aid  him,  his  discoveries  would 
bring  great  honor  and  riches  to  their  king- 
dom, and  that  they  would  also  become  the 
benefactors  of  the  world  by  helping  to 
spread  the  knowledge  of  Christ  and  His 
religion.  Nobody  believed  in  his  theory. 


CHBISTOPHER    COLUMBV8.  167 

Nobody  was  interested  in  his  plan.  He 
grew  poorer  and  poorer. 

At  last  he  turned  his  back  on  the  great 
Spanish  court,  and  in  silent  despair  he  took 
his  little  son  by  the  hand  and  walked  a  long 
way  to  a  small  seaport  called  Palos,  where 
there  was  a  queer  old  convent  in  which 
strangers  were  often  entertained  by  the  kind 
monks  who  lived  in  it.  Weary  and  footsore 
he  reached  the  gate  of  the  convent.  Knock- 
ing upon  it  he  asked  the  porter,  who  an- 
swered the  summons,  if  he  would  give  little 
Diego  a  bit  of  bread  and  a  drink  of  water. 
While  the  two  tired  travelers  were  resting, 
as  the  little  boy  ate  his  dry  crust  of  bread, 
the  prior  of  the  convent,  a  man  of  thought 
and  learning,  whose  name  was  Juan  Perez, 
came  by  and  at  once  saw  that  these  two 
were  no  common  beggars.  He  invited  them 
in  and  questioned  Columbus  closely  about 
his  past  life.  He  listened  quietly  and 
thoughtfully  to  Columbus  and  his  plan  of 
crossing  the  ocean  and  converting  the  heathen 
to  Christianity. 

Juan  Perez  had  at  one  time  been  a  very 
intimate  friend  of  Queen  Isabella ;  in  fact, 
the  priest  to  whom  she  told  all  her  sorrows, 
and  troubles.  He  was  a  quiet  man  and 


168  IN  STORY-LAND. 

talked  but  little.  After  a  long  conference 
with  Columbus,  in  which  he  was  convinced 
that  Columbus  was  right,  he  borrowed  a 
mule  and  getting  on  his  back  rode  for  many 
miles  across  the  open  country  to  the  palace 
in  which  the  Queen  was  then  staying.  I  do 
not  know  how  he  convinced  her  of  the  truth 
of  Columbus'  plan,  when  all  the  ministers 
and  courtiers  and  statesmen  about  her  con- 
sidered it  the  absurdly  foolish  and  silly 
dream  of  an  old  man ;  but,  somehow,  he 
did  it. 

He  then  returned  on  his  mule  to  the  old 
convent  at  Palos,  and  told  Columbus  to  go 
back  once  more  to  the  court  of  Spain  and 
again  petition  the  Queen  to  give  him  money 
with  which  to  make  his  voyage  of  discovery. 
The  State  Treasurer  said  the  Queen  had  no 
money  to  spare,  but  this  noble-hearted  woman, 
who  now,  for  the  first  time,  realized  that  it 
was  a  grand  and  glorious  thing  Columbus 
wished  to  do,  said  she  would  give  her  crown 
jewels  for  money  with  which  to  start  Colum- 
bus on  his  dangerous  journey  across  the  great 
ocean. 

This  meant  much  in  those  days,  as  queens 
were  scarcely  considered  dignified  or  respect- 
able if  they  did  not  wear  crowns  of  gold  inlaid 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS.  169 

with  bright  jewels  on  all  public  occasions,  but 
Queen  Isabella  cared  far  more  to  send  the 
gospel  of  Christ  over  to  the  heathen  than 
how  she  might  look,  or  what  other  people 
might  say  about  her.  The  jewels  were  pawned 
and  the  money  was  given  to  Columbus.  With 
a  glad  heart  he  hastened  back  to  the  little 
town  of  Palos  where  he  had  left  his  young  son 
with  the  kind  priest  Juan  Perez. 

But  now  a  new  difficulty  arose.  Enough  sail- 
ors could  not  be  found  who  would  venture  their 
lives  by  going  out  on  this  unknown  voyage  with 
a  crazy  old  man  such  as  Columbus  was  thought 
to  be.  At  last  the  convicts  from  the  prisons 
were  given  liberty  by  the  Queen  on  condition 
that  they  would  go  with  the  sailors  and  Colum- 
bus. So,  you  see,  it  was  not  altogether  a  very 
nice  crew,  still  it  was  the  best  he  could  get,  and 
Columbus'  heart  was  so  filled  with  the  great 
work  that  he  was  willing  to  undertake  the 
voyage  no  matter  how  great  or  how  many  the 
difficulties  might  be.  The  ships  were  filled 
with  food  and  other  provisions  for  a  long, 
long  voyage. 

Nobody  knew  how  long  it  would  be  before 
the  land  on  the  other  side  could  be  reached, 
and  many  people  thought  there  was  no  pos- 
sible hope  of  its  ever  being  found. 


170  IN  STORY-LAND. 

Early  one  summer  morning,  even  before 
the  sun  had  risen,  Columbus  bade  farewell  to 
the  few  friends  who  had  gathered  at  the  little 
seaport  of  Palos  to  say  good-bye  to  him.  The 
ships  spread  their  sails  and  started  on  the 
great  untried  voyage.  There  were  three 
boats,  none  of  which  we  would  think,  nowa- 
days, was  large  enough  or  strong  enough  to 
dare  venture  out  of  sight  and  help  of  land  and 
run  the  risk  of  encountering  the  storms  of 
mid-ocean. 

The  names  of  the  boats  were  the  Santa 
Maria,  which  was  the  one  that  Columbus 
himself  commanded,  and  two  smaller 
boats,  one  named  the  Pinta  and  the  other  the 
Nina. 

Strange,  indeed,  must  the  sailors  have  felt, 
as  hour  after  hour  they  drifted  out  into  the 
great  unknown  waters,  which  no  man  ever 
ventured  into  before.  Soon  all  land  faded 
from  their  sight,  and  on,  and  on,  and  on  they 
went,  not  knowing  where  or  how  the  voyage 
would  end.  Columbus  alone  was  filled  with 
hope,  feeling  quite  sure  that  in  time  he  would 
reach  the  never  before  visited  shores  of  a  New 
World,  and  would  thus  be  the  means  of  bring- 
ing the  Christian  religion  to  these  poor,  igno- 
rant people.  On  and  on  they  sailed,  day  after 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS.  171 

day  —  far  beyond  the  utmost  point  which 
sailors  had  ever  before  reached. 

Many  of  the  men  were  filled  with  a  strange 
dread  and  begged  and  pleaded  to  return  home. 
Still  on  and  on  they  went,  each  day  taking 
them  further  and  further  from  all  they  had 
ever  known  or  loved  before.  Day  after  day 
passed,  and  week  after  week  until  two  months 
had  elapsed. 

The  provisions  which  they  had  brought  with 
them  were  getting  scarce,  and  the  men  now 
dreaded  starvation.  They  grew  angry  with 
Columbus,  and  threatened  to  take  his  life  if  he 
did  not  command  the  ships  to  be  turned  back 
towards  Spain,  but  his  patience  did  not  give 
out,  nor  was  his  faith  one  whit  the  less.  He 
cheered  the  hearts  of  the  men  as  best  he  could. 
Often  telling  them  droll,  funny  stories  to  dis- 
tract their  thoughts  from  the  terrible  dread 
which  now  filled  all  minds. 

He  promised  a  rich  reward  to  the  first  man 
who  should  discover  land  ahead.  This  some- 
what renewed  their  courage,  and  day  and  night 
watches  were  set  and  the  western  horizon 
before  them  was  scanned  at  all  hours.  Time 
and  again  they  thought  they  saw  land  ahead, 
only  to  find  they  had  mistaken  a  cloud  upon 
the  horizon  for  the  longed-for  shore.  Flocks 


172  Iff  STORY-LAND. 

of  birds  flying  westward  began  to  be  seen. 
This  gave  some  ground  for  hope.  For  surely 
the  birds  must  be  flying  toward  some  land 
where  they  could  find  food,  and  trees  in  which 
to  build  their  nests.  Still  fear  was  great  in 
the  hearts  of  all,  and  Columbus  knew  that  he 
could  not  keep  the  men  much  longer  in  sus- 
pense, and  that  if  land  did  not  appear  soon 
they  would  compel  him  to  turn  around  and 
retrace  his  steps  whether  he  wished  to  or  not. 

Then  he  thought  of  all  the  benighted  hea- 
then who  had  never  heard  of  God's  message 
of  love  to  man  through  Christ,  and  he  prayed 
almost  incessantly  that  courage  might  be 
given  him  to  go  on.  Hour  after  hour  he 
looked  across  the  blue  water,  day  and  night, 
longing  for  the  sight  of  land.  In  fact,  he 
watched  so  incessantly  that  his  eyesight  be- 
came injured  and  he  could  scarcely  see  at  all. 

At  last  one  night  as  he  sat  upon  the  deck 
of  the  ship  he  was  quite  sure  that  a  faint 
light  glimmered  for  a  few  moments  in  the 
distant  darkness  ahead.  Where  there  is  a 
light  there  must  be  land,  he  thought.  Still 
he  was  not  sure,  as  his  eyesight  had  become 
so  dim.  So  he  called  one  of  the  more  faith- 
ful sailors  to  him  and  asked  him  what  he 
saw.  The  sailor  exclaimed: 


CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS.  173 

"A  light,  alight!  " 

Another  sailor  was  called,  but  by  this  time 
the  light  had  disappeared  and  the  sailor  saw 
nothing,  and  Columbus'  hopes  again  sank. 
Still  he  felt  they  must  be  nearing  land. 
About  2  o'clock  that  night  the  commander 
of  one  of  the  other  boats  started  the  cry: 

"  Land!  land  ahead  !" 

You  can  well  imagine  how  the  shout  was 
taken  up,  and  how  the  sailors,  one  and  all, 
rushed  to  the  edge  of  their  ships,  leaning  far 
over,  no  doubt,  and  straining  their  eyes  for 
the  almost  unhoped-for  sight. 

Early  the  next  morning  some  one  of  the 
sailors  picked  up  a  branch  of  a  strange  tree, 
lodged  in  the  midst  of  which  was  a  tiny 
bird's  nest.  This  was  sure  evidence  that 
they  were  indeed  near  land,  for  branches  of 
trees  do  not  grow  in  water. 

Little  by  little  the  land  came  in  sight. 
First  it  looked  like  a  dim  ghost  of  a  shore, 
but  gradually  it  grew  distinct  and  clear. 
About  noon  the  next  day  the  keel  of  Colum- 
bus' boat  ground  upon  the  sand  of  the  newly 
discovered  country.  No  white  man  had  ever 
before  set  eyes  upon  it.  No  ship  had  ever 
before  touched  this  coast. 

At  last  after   a   long  life  of  working  and 


174  /#   STORY-LAND. 

studying,  of  hoping  and  planning,  of  trying 
and  failing,  and  trying  yet  again,  he  had 
realized  his  dream. 

The  great  mystery  of  the  ocean  was  re- 
vealed, and  Columbus  had  achieved  a  glory 
which  would  last  as  long  as  the  world  lasted. 
He  had  given  a  new  world  to  mankind!  He 
had  reached  the  far  distant  country  across 
the  ocean,  which  scarcely  any  of  his  coun- 
trymen had  even  believed  to  have  any  exist- 
ence. He  now  knew  that  the  whole  round 
world  could  in  time  have  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. 

He  sprang  upon  the  shore,  and  dropping  on 
his  knees  he  first  stooped  and  kissed  the 
ground,  and  then  he  offered  a  fervent  prayer 
of  thanks  to  God. 

A  learned  attorney  who  had  come  with  him 
across  the  water  next  planted  the  flag  of  Spain 
upon  the  unknown  land,  and  claimed  the  newly 
discovered  country  in  the  name  of  King  Fer- 
dinand and  Queen  Isabella  of  Spain. 

Wonderful,  wonderful  indeed  were  the  things 
which  Columbus  and  the  sailors  now  saw ! 
Strange  naked  men  and  women  of  a  copper, 
or  bronze  color,  strange  new  birds  with  gor- 
geous tails  that  glittered  like  gems  such  as 
they  had  never  seen  before;  beautiful  and  un- 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS.  J75 

known  fruits  and  flowers  met  their  gaze  on 
every  side. 

The  savages  were  kind  and  gentle  and 
brought  them  food  and  water.  They  had 
little  else  to  offer  as  they  had  no  houses,  nor 
streets,  nor  carriages,  nor  cars,  nor  conve- 
niences of  any  kind.  Do  you  know,  my 
dear  children,  that  this  strange,  wild,  savage 
country  which  Columbus  had  traveled  so  far 
and  so  long  to  discover  was  our  country, 
America? 

But  it  was  not  long  until  after  Columbus 
had  gone  back  to  Europe  and  told  the  people 
there  of  the  wonderful  things  which  he  had 
seen  in  this  far,  far  away  land  that  ship-loads 
of  white  people,  who  were  educated  and  who 
had  been  taught  to  love  God  and  to  keep  his 
commandments,  came  over  and  settled  in  this 
wild,  new  country.  They  plowed  the  land  and 
planted  seed ;  they  built  houses  for  them- 
selves, their  wives  and  little  ones,  and  in  time 
they  made  school-houses  for  the  children,  and 
churches  in  which  to  worship  God.  Long  and 
hard  was  the  struggle  which  these  first  white 
men  had  to  make  in  this  strange,  new  country. 

Year  after  year  more  and  more  white  men 
came.  These  new  settlers  prospered,  and  new 
towns  were  built,  and  roads  were  made  from 


176  IN  STORY-LAND. 

one  town  to  another,  and  stores  and  manufac- 
tories began  to  be  seen. 

At  last  the  little  handful  of  people  had 
grown  so  strong  that  they  established  a  gov- 
ernment of  their  own,  which  welcomed  all 
newcomers,  providing  they  were  law-abiding 
citizens.  The  poor  and  oppressed,  the  per- 
secuted and  discouraged  in  other  lands  came 
to  this  new  shore,  where  they  found  wealth 
if  they  were  willing  to  work  for  it. 

I-lere  they  need  no  longer  fear  the  persecu- 
tions from  which  they  had  suffered.  Here 
they  gained  new  hope  and  became  honored 
and  respected  citizens. 

Little  by  little  the  small  country  grew 
into  a  great  nation,  the  greatest  on  earth, 
because  it  is  the  freest,  and  each  citizen  in  it 
has  his  rights  respected.  But  for  the  courage 
and  determination  and  self-sacrifice  of  Colum- 
bus this  great  new  world  might  have  re- 
mained for  hundreds  of  years  unknown  to 
men. 

Four  hundred  years  afterwards  the  children 
of  the  children's  children  of  these  early  set- 
tlers, had  a  grand  celebration  in  honor  of  the 
brave  old  man,  Christopher  Columbus,  whom 
the  people  of  his  day  called  crazy,  and  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  were  invited  to  bring 


CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS.  177 

their  most  beautiful,  their  richest  and  rarest 
products  to  this  celebration,  in  order  that  not 
we  of  America  alone,  but  the  whole  world 
might  celebrate  the  wisdom  and  the  courage  of 
the  great  Columbus ,  "  the  finder  of  Amer- 
ica." 

In  the  rejoicing  and  in  the  celebration  the 
nations  did  not  forget  the  good  Queen  Isa- 
bella, who  was  willing  to  give  up  her  most 
precious  jewels  in  order  that  she  might  help 
Columbus  in  his  voyage  of  discovery. 

12 


A  STOET  OF  DECORATION  DAY 
FOR  THE  LITTLE  CHILDREN 
OF  TO-DAY. 

I  want  you  to  listen  to  a  sad,  sweet  story 
to-day,  and  yet  one  that  ought  to  make  you 
glad, —  glad  that  such  men  have  lived  as  those 
of  whom  I  am  going  to  tell  you.  It  all  hap- 
pened a  good  many  years  ago,  in  fact  so  long 
ago  that  your  fathers  and  mothers  were  little 
boys  and  girls  in  kilts  and  pinafores,  some  of 
them  mere  babies  in  long  clothes. 

One  bright  Sunday  morning  in  April  the 
telegraph  wires  could  be  heard  repeating  the 
same  things  all  over  the  land,  '«  Tic,  tic;  tictic  ; 
t-i-c;  tic,  tictic; — tic,  t-i-c,  tic;  t-i-c; 
tic,  t-i-c;  t-i-c,  t-i-c,  tic,"  they  called 
out,  and  the  drowsy  telegraph  operators  sat 
up  in  their  chairs  as  if  startled  by  the  words 
the  wires  were  saying. 

"Tic,  t-i-c,  tic;  tictic;  tic,  tictic;  tic; 
t-i-c,  tictic;  —  tic,  tic;  t-i-c,  tic,"  con- 
tinued the  wires  and  the  faces  of  the  telegraph 
operators  grew  pale.  Any  looker-on  could 
(178) 


A    STORY    OF  DECORATION  DAY.        179 

have  seen  that  something  dreadful  was  being 
told  by  the  wires. 

"Tic,  t-i-c,  tic;  tictic;  tic,  tictic;  tic; 
t-i-c,  tictic; — tic,  tic;  t-i-c,  tic,"  again 
repeated  the  wires.  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  message  this  time.  Alas,  alas,  it  was  true  ! 
The  terrible  news  was  true  I  Even  the  bravest 
among  the  operators  trembled. 

Then  came  the  rapid  writing  out  of  the 
fearful  words  that  the  slender  wires  had  ut- 
tered, the  hurrying  to  and  fro;  and  messenger 
boys  were  seen  flying  to  the  great  newspaper 
offices,  and  the  homes  of  the  mayors  of  the 
cities,  and  to  the  churches  where  already  the 
people  were  beginning  to  assemble.  For  the 
deep-toned  Sabbath  church  bells  high  up  in  the 
steeples  had  been  ringing  out  their  welcome  to 
all,  even  the  strangers  in  their  midst —  "  Biin  i 
Baum !  Birn!"  they  sang,  which  eveybody 
knew  meant,  "  Come  to  church,  dear  people  ! 
Cornel  Cornel  Come!"  And  the  people 
strolled  leisurely  along  toward  the  churches, — 
fathers  and  mothers  and  little  ones,  and  even 
grandfathers  and  grandmothers.  It  was  such 
a  bright,  pleasant  day  that  it  seemed  a  joy  to 
go  to  the  house  of  God  and  thank  Him  for  all 
His  love  and  care.  So  one  family  after  another 
filed  into  their  pews  while  the  organist  played 


180  IN   STOUT-LAND. 

such  soft,  sweet  music  that  everybody  felt 
soothed  and  quieted  by  it. 

Little  did  they  dream  of  the  awful  words 
which  the  telegraph  wires  were  at  that  very 
moment  calling  out  with  their  "Tic,  t-i-c, 
tic;  t-i-c;  tic,  t-i-c;  t  -  i- c,  t-  i  -  c,  tic  ;  — 
Tic,  t-i-c,  tic,  tictic,  tic,  tictic ;  tic ;  t-i-c ; 
tictic." 

The  clergymen  came  in  and  took  their  places 
in  the  pulpits.  In  each  church  the  organ 
ceased  its  wordless  song  of  praise.  The  con- 
gregation bowed  and  silently  joined  with  all 
their  hearts  in  the  petitions  which  the  clergy- 
man was  offering  to  the  dear  Lord,  Father  of 
all  mankind,  Ruler  of  heaven  and  earth. 
Some  of  them  softly  whispered  "  Amen  "  as 
he  asked  protection  for  their  homes  and  their 
beloved  country.  Did  they  know  anything 
about  the  danger  which  even  then  hung  over 
them?  Perhaps  they  did. 

In  many  of  the  churches  the  prayer  was 
over,  the  morning  hymn  had  been  sung,  when 
a  stir  and  bustle  at  the  door  might  have  been 
noticed,  as  the  messenger  boys,  excited  and 
out  of  breath,  handed  their  yellow  envelopes 
to  the  ushers  who  stood  near  the  door  ready 
to  show  the  late  comers  to  unoccupied  seats. 
First  one  and  then  the  other  ushers  read  the 


A    STOEY  OF   DECORATION  DAY.        181 

message,  and  from  some  one  of  them  escaped 
in  a  hushed  whisper,  the  words,  "  Oh  God  I 
Has  it  come  to  this  !  " 

And  all  looked  white  and  awe-struck.  The 
head  usher  hurried  tremblingly  down  the 
aisle,  and  without  waiting  for  the  clergy 
man  to  finish  reading  the  announcements  of 
the  week,  laid  the  telegram  upon  the  pulpit 
desk. 

The  clergyman,  somewhat  surprised  at  such 
an  interruption,  glanced  at  the  paper,  stopped, 
gasped,  picked  it  up,  and  re-read  the  words 
written  upon  it,  as  though  he  could  not  believe 
his  own  eyes.  Then  he  advanced  a  step  for- 
ward, holding  on  to  the  desk,  as  if  he  had 
been  struck  a  blow  by  some  unseen  hand. 
The  congregation  knew  that  something  terrible 
had  happened,  and  their  hearts  seemed  to  stop 
beating  as  they  leaned  forward  to  catch  his 
words. 

"  My  people,"  said  he  in  a  slow,  deliberate 
tone,  as  if  it  were  an  effort  to  steady  his  voice, 
"  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  message  from  the  Pres- 
ident of  the  United  States."  Then  his  eyes 
dropped  to  the  paper  which  he  still  held,  and 
now  his  voice  rang  out  clear  and  loud  as  he  read, 
"  Our  Flag  has  been  fired  upon!  Seventy- 


182  J2V  STOflY-LAND. 

five  thousand  troops  wanted  at  once.     Abraham 
Lincoln." 

********* 

I  could  not  make  you  understand  all  that 
took  place  the  next  week  or  two  any  more 
than  the  little  children  who  heard  what  the 
telegram  said,  understood  it.  Men  came  home, 
hurried  and  excited,  to  hunt  up  law  papers,  or 
to  straighten  out  deeds,  saying  in  constrained 
tones  to  the  pale-faced  women,  "  I  will  try  to 
leave  all  business  matters  straight  before  I  go." 
There  was  solemn  consultations  between  hus- 
bands and  wives,  which  usually  ended  in  the 
father's  going  out,  stern-faced  and  silent,  and 
the  mother,  dry-eyed  but  with  quivering  lips, 
seeking  her  own  room,  locking  herself  in  for 
an  hour,  then  coming  out  to  the  wondering 
children  with  a  quiet  face,  but  with  eyes  that 
showed  she  had  been  weeping.  There  were 
gatherings  in  the  town  halls  and  in  the  churches 
and  school  houses  all  over  the  land.  The 
newspapers  were  read  hurriedly  and  anxi- 
ously. 

And  when  little  Robert  looked  up  earnestly 
into  his  Grandmamma's  face  and  asked, 
"  Why  does  Mamma  not  eat  her  breakfast?  " 
Grandmamma  replied,  "  Your  Papa  is  going 


A    STOBY  OF  DECORATION  DAY.       183 

away,  my  dear;"  and  when  little  Robert  per- 
sisted, by  saying,  "  But  Papa  goes  to  New 
York  every  year,  and  Mamma  does  not  sit 
and  stare  out  of  the  window,  and  forget  to  eat 
her  breakfast. "  Then  Mamma  would  turn 
solemnly  around  and  say,  "  Robert,  my  boy, 
Papa  is  going  to  the  war,  and  may  never  come 
back  to  us.  But  you  and  I  must  be  brave 
about  it,  and  help  him  get  ready."  And  if 
Robert  answered,  '«  Why  is  he  going  to  the 
war?  Why  does  he  not  stay  at  home  with  us? 
Doesn't  he  love  us  any  more?  "  then  Mamma 
would  draw  her  boy  to  her  and  putting  her 
arms  around  him,  and  looking  into  his  eyes, 
she  would  say,  "  Yes,  my  darling,  he  loves  us, 
but  he  must  go.  Our  country  needs  him,  and 
you  and  I  must  be  proud  that  he  is  ready  to  do 
his  duty."  Then  Robert  would  go  away  to  his 
play,  wondering  what  it  all  meant,  just  as  you 
would  have  wondered  if  you  had  been  there. 

Soon  the  Papas  and  Uncles,  and  even  some 
of  the  Grandfathers,  put  on  soldiers'  uniforms, 
and  drilled  in  the  streets  with  guns  over  their 
shoulders,  and  bands  of  music  played  military 
music,  and  the  drums  beat,  and  crowds  of  peo- 
ple collected  on  the  street  corners,  and  there 
were  more  speeches,  and  more  flags,  and  ban- 
ners, and  stir,  and  excitement.  And  nothing 


184  IN  STORY-LAND. 

else  was  talked  of  but  the  war,  the  war,  the 
terrible  war. 

Then  came  the  marching  away  of  the  sol- 
diers to  the  railway  stations,  and  then  the 
farewells  and  cheers  and  waving  of  handker- 
chiefs and  the  playing  of  patriotic  airs  by  the 
bands  of  music,  and  much  more  confusion  and 
excitement  and  good-bye  kisses  and  tears  than 
I  could  tell  you  of. 
######### 

Then  came  the  long,  long  days  of  waiting 
and  praying  in  the  homes  to  which  fathers  and 
brothers  no  longer  came,  and  silent  watching 
for  letters,  and  anxious  opening  of  the  news- 
papers, and  oftentimes  the  little  children  felt 
their  Mamma's  tears  drop  on  their  faces  as 
she  kissed  them  good-night, — their  dear 
Mamma  who  so  often  had  sung  them  to  sleep 
with  her  gay,  happy  songs,  —  what  did  it  all 
mean?  They  could  not  tell. 

And  all  this  time  the  fathers,  brave  men  as 
they  were,  had  been  marching  down  to  the 
war.  Oftentimes  they  slept  on  the  hard 
ground  with  only  their  army  blankets  wrapped 
around  them,  and  the  stars  to  keep  watch  over 
them,  and  many  a  day  they  had  nothing  to  eat 
but  dry  bread  and  black  coffee,  because  they 
had  not  time  to  cook  more,  and  sometimes 


A   STORY   OF  DECORATION  DAY.       185 

they  had  no  breakfast  at  all  because  they  must 
be  up  by  day-break  and  march  on,  even  if  the 
rain  poured  down,  as  it  sometimes  did,  wetting 
them  through  and  through.  What  were  such 
hardships  when  their  country  was  in  danger? 

Then  came  the  terrible,  terrible  battles, 
more  awful  than  anything  you  ever  dreamed 
of.  Men  were  shot  down  by  the  thousands, 
and  many  who  did  not  lose  their  lives  had 
a  leg  shot  off,  or  an  arm  so  crushed  that  it 
had  to  be  cut  off.  Still  they  bravely  strug- 
gled on.  It  was  for  their  beloved  country 
they  were  fighting,  and  for  it  they  must  be 
willing  to  suffer,  or  to  die. 

Then  a  hundred  thousand  more  soldiers 
were  called  for,  and  then  another  hundred 
thousand,  and  still  the  bloody  war  continued. 
For  four  long  years  it  lasted,  and  the  whole 
world  looked  on,  amazed  at  such  courage  and 
endurance. 
******** 

Then  the  men  who  had  not  been  killed,  or 
who  had  not  died  of  their  sufferings  came 
marching  home  again,  many,  alas,  on  crutches, 
and  many  who  knew  that  they  were  disabled  for 
life.  But  they  had  saved  their  country!  And 
that  was  reward  enough  for  their  heroic  hearts. 
Though  many  a  widow  turned  her  sad  face 


186  IAT  STORY-LAND. 

away  when  the  crowd  welcomed  the  returning 
soldiers,  for  she  knew  that  her  loved  one  was 
not  with  them,  and  many  little  children  learned 
in  time  that  their  dear  fathers  would  never 
return  to  them. 

War  is  such  a  terrible  thing  that  it  makes 
one's  heart  ache  to  think  of  it. 

Then  by  and  by  the  people  said,  "  our  chil- 
dren must  grow  up  loving  and  honoring  the 
heroic  men  who  gave  their  lives  for  their 
country."  So  in  villages  and  towns,  and  cities, 
monuments  were  built  in  honor  of  the  men  who 
died  fighting  for  their  country.  And  one  day 
each  year  was  set  apart  to  keep  fresh  and 
green  the  memory  of  the  brave  soldiers,  and 
it  has  been  named  "  DECORATION  DAY," 
because  on  this  day  all  the  children,  all  over 
the  land,  are  permitted  to  go  to  the  graves  of 
the  dead  soldiers  and  place  flowers  upon  them. 


OLD  JOHNNY  APPLESEED. 

THE  RAGGED  OLD  HERO. 

A  TRUE  STORY. 

Many  years  ago  on  the  sparsely  settled  prairies 
of  America  there  lived  an  old  man  who  was 
known  by  the  queer  name  of  "Johnny  Apple- 
seed."  His  wife  had  died  long  ago  and  his 
children  had  grown  up  and  scattered  to  the 
corners  of  the  earth.  He  had  not  even  a  home 
that  he  could  call  his  own,  but  wandered  about 
from  place  to  place,  with  only  few  friends  and 
little  or  no  money.  His  face  was  wrinkled,  his 
hair  was  thin  and  gray,  and  his  shoulders 
stooped.  His  clothes  were  old  and  ragged  and 
his  hat  was  old  and  shabby.  Yet  inside  of  him 
was  a  heart  that  was  brave  and  true,  and  he 
felt  that  even  he,  old  and  poor  as  he  was,  could 
be  of  use  in  the  world,  because  he  loved  his 
fellow-men,  and  love  always  finds  something 
to  do. 

As  he  trudged  along  the  lonely  road  from 
town  to  town,  or  made  for  himself  a  path 
through  the  unbroken  forest,  he  often  thought 
of  the  good  God,  and  of  how  all  men  were  chil- 


188  IN  STORY-LAND. 

dren  of  the  One  Father.     Sometimes  he  would 
burst  out  singing  the  words  of  a  song  which  he 
had  learned  when  he  was  a  young  man. 
11  Millions  loving,  I  embrace  you, 
All  the  world  this  kiss  I  send! 
Brothers,  o'er  yon  starry  tent 
Dwells  a  God  whose  love  is  true!" 
These  words,  by  the  way,  are  a  part  of  a  great 
poem  you  may  some  day  read.    And  they  once 
so  stirred  the  heart  of  a  great  musician  that  he 
set  them  to  the  finest  music  the  world  has  ever 
heard.     And  now  the  great  thought  of  a  loving 
God  and  the  great  music  of  a  loving  man  com- 
forted the  lonely  traveller. 

The  old  man  wandered  about  from  village  to 
village,  which  in  those  days  were  scattered  far 
apart,  with  miles  and  miles  of  prairie  land 
stretching  between  them,  and  sometimes  wood- 
land and  rivers,  too,  separated  one  village  from 
the  next.  At  night  he  usually  earned  his  crust 
of  bread  and  lodgings  by  mending  the  teakettle 
or  wash-boiler  of  some  farmer's  wife,  or  by 
soldering  on  the  handle  of  her  tin  cup  or  the 
knob  to  her  tea-pot,  as  he  always  carried  in  one 
of  his  coat  pockets  a  small  charcoal  stove  and  a 
bit  of  solder.  He  always  carried  under  his 
arm  or  over  his  shoulder  a  green  baize  bag,  and 
when  the  mending  was  done  he  would  often- 
times draw  out  of  this  green  bag  an  old  violin 


OLD  JOHNNY  APPLESEED,  189 

and  begin  to  play,  and  the  farmer,  as  well  as  his 
wife  and  the  children,  would  gather  around  him 
and  listen  to  his  strange  music. 

Sometimes  it  was  gay  and  sometimes  it  was 
sad,  but  always  sweet.  Sometimes  he  sang 
words  that  he  himself  had  written,  and  some- 
times the  songs  which  had  been  written  by  the 
great  masters.  But  mending  broken  tinware 
and  playing  an  old  violin  were  not  the  only 
things  he  did  to  help  the  world  along.  As  he 
wandered  from  place  to  place  he  often  noticed 
how  rich  the  soil  was,  and  he  would  say  to  him- 
self, "Some  day  this  will  be  a  great  country 
with  thousands  of  people  living  on  this  land, 
and  though  I  shall  never  see  them,  they  may 
never  read  my  verses  or  hear  my  name,  still  I 
can  help  them,  and  add  some  things  to  their 
lives. 

So  whenever  a  farmer's  wife  gave  him  an 
apple  to  eat  he  carefully  saved  every  seed  that 
lay  hidden  in  the  heart  of  the  apple,  and  next 
day  as  he  trudged  along  he  would  stoop  down 
every  now  and  then  and  plant  a  few  of  the  seeds 
and  then  carefully  cover  them  with  the  rich 
black  soil  of  the  prairie.  Then  he  would  look 
up  reverently  to  the  sky  and  say,  "I  can  but 
plant  the  seed,  dear  Lord,  and  Thy  clouds  may 
water  them,  but  Thou  alone  can  give  the  in- 
crease. Thou  only  can  cause  this  tiny  seed  to 


190  IN  8TOEY-LAND. 

grow  into  a  tree  whose  fruit  shall  feed  my  fellow 
men."  Then  the  God-like  love  that  would  fill 
his  heart  at  such  a  thought  would  cause  his  face 
to  look  young  again  and  his  eyes  to  shine  as  an 
angel's  eyes  must  shine,  and  oftentimes  he  would 
sing  in  clear  rich  tones— 

"Millions  loving,  I  embrace  you, 
All  the  world  this  kiss  I  send ! 
Brothers,  o'er  yon  starry  tent 
Dwells  a  God  whose  love  is  true!" 
And  he  knew  that  God  dwelt  in  his  heart  as 
well  as  in  the  blue  sky  above. 

When  the  cold  winters  came  and  the  ground 
was  frozen  too  hard  for  him  to  plant  his  apple 
seeds,  he  still  saved  them,  and  would  often  have 
a  small  bag  full  of  them  by  the  time  that  spring 
returned  again.  And  this  is  how  he  came  to  be 
called  "Old  Johnny  Appleseed." 

Though  nobody  took  very  much  notice  of 
what  he  was  doing,  he  still  continued  each  day 
to  plant  apple  seeds  and  each  evening  to  play 
on  his  violin. 

By-and-by  his  step  grew  slower  and  his 
shoulders  drooped  lower  until  at  last  his  soul, 
which  had  always  been  strong  and  beautiful, 
passed  out  of  his  worn  old  body  into  the  life 
beyond,  and  the  cast-off  body  was  buried  by 
some  villagers  who  felt  kindly  towards  the  old 
man,  but  who  never  dreamed  that  he  had  ever 


OLD  JOHNNY  APPLESEED.  191 

done  any  real  service  for  them  or  their  children. 
And  soon  his  very  name  was  forgotten.  But 
the  tiny  apple  seeds  took  root  and  began  to 
grow,  and  each  summer  the  young  saplings  grew 
taller  and  each  winter  they  grew  stronger,  until 
at  last  they  were  young  trees,  and  then  they 
were  old  enough  to  bear  apples.  As  people 
moved  from  the  east  out  to  the  wild  western 
prairies  they  naturally  enough  selected  sites  for 
building  their  homes  near  the  fruitful  apple 
trees,  and  in  the  spring  time  the  young  men 
gathered  the  blossoms  for  the  young  maidens  to 
wear  in  their  hair,  and  in  the  autumn  the 
fathers  gathered  the  ripe  red  and  yellow  apples 
to  store  away  in  their  cellars  for  winter  use, 
and  the  mothers  made  apple  sauce  and  apple 
pies  and  apple  dumplings  of  them,  and  all  the 
year  round  the  little  children  played  under  the 
shade  of  the  apple  trees,  but  none  of  them  ever 
once  thought  of  the  old  man  who  had  planted 
for  people  he  did  not  know,  and  who  could 
never  even  thank  him  for  his  loving  services. 

Each  apple  that  ripened  bore  in  its  heart  a 
number  of  new  seeds,  some  of  which  were 
planted  and  grew  into  fine  orchards  from  which 
were  gathered  many  barrels  of  apples.  These 
were  shipped  farther  west,  until  the  Rocky 
Mountains  were  reached.  In  the  centre  of  each 
apple  shipped  were  more  seeds,  from  which 


192  IN  STORY-LAND. 

grew  more  apple  trees,  which  bore  the  same  kind 
of  apples  that  the  wrinkled  old  man  in  the 
shabby  old  clothes  had  planted  long  years 
before.  So  that  many  thousands  of  people 
have  already  been  benefited  by  what  the  poor 
old  man  in  the  shabby  old  coat  did,  and 
thousands  yet  to  come  will  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
his  labor. 

It  is  true  he  never  wore  the  armour  of  a 
great  knight  and  never  held  the  title  of  a  great 
general.     He  never  discovered  a  new  world,  nor 
helped  his  favorite  to  sit  on  the  throne  of  a 
king.     But  perhaps  after  all,  though  ragged  and 
poor,  he  was  a  hero;  because  in  his  heart  he 
really  and  truly  sang,  as  well  as  with  his  lips. 
"  Millions  loving,  I  embrace  you, 
All  the  world  this  kiss  I  send ! 
Brothers,  o'er  yon  starry  tent 
Dwells  a  God  whose  love  is  true ! ' ' 
For  the  greatest  of  all  victories  is  to  learn  to 
love  others  even  when  they  do  not  know  it. 
This  is  to  be  God-like,  and  to  be  God-like  is  to 
be  the  greatest  of  heroes. 


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A  STUDY  OF  CHILD-NATURE 

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TWO  CHILDREN  OF  THE 
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Is  a  collection  of  lectures  on 
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